


A Road Less Travelled

by Pureauthor



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 21:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 118,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11044251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureauthor/pseuds/Pureauthor
Summary: Alm leaves Ram to lead the Deliverance, leaving Faye behind. When Celica shows up unexpectedly on the doorstep of their sleepy village, Faye takes a chance and decides to travel with the girl she remembers from so many years ago. What will she learn about Valentia, the gods above them, and most importantly, herself?





	1. When Alm Left Her Behind

A Road Less Travelled

 

* * *

Plot idea that fell into my head based on the fact that it's possible to leave Faye and Kliff behind in Ram for Celica to recruit in late Act 2.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The first few days after they leave are spent in a blur. She wakes up, does her chores, meanders about aimlessly until it gets late, and then she goes to bed.

She tries training a couple of times, practising the sword strokes Mycen had patiently taught her and the rest of her friends, but doing it all alone makes her feel foolish and sloppy. Alm's gentle smiles and words of encouragement are painfully absent and any real desire to continue is quickly snuffed out

She leaves her training sword in the yard where she dropped it.

She tries sewing too, and picking wildflowers, her old comforting habits, and for a while it almost works as she can put her focus on what designs she will weave onto her cloth or how she'll arrange the flowers just so in order to brighten any room she brings them into, instead of letting her mind wander down more unwelcome paths.

But when the deed is done she has no one to show the handkerchief to, no one to offer the flowers to as a gift.

She leaves them in Alm's room anyway, placing them neatly on his worn desk. Perhaps he'll see them and appreciate them when he returns.

She quickly realizes that without any of her friends around, there is an infernal lack of things to actually _do_.

Nights are probably the worst. She lies down on her bed, body aching from the day's work, and wonders about what he is doing now. She is worried. Worried about him fighting a war – an actual war! - worried that he'll get himself hurt somehow, worried that he won't and that somehow, he'll move even further away from her.

And she wonders why he didn't so much as _ask_ if she'd wanted to come along with him before he departed.

It was true that she loved life in the village. She loved the peaceful days, the friendly neighbours. But she loved Alm too. If asked, she'd have dropped everything in a heartbeat to follow him.

Probably.

She thinks about chasing him down, even now. Surely he couldn't have gotten that far? But common sense rears its head and reminds her that lone women are easy prey for the brigands that roam beyond the village walls.

And so she continues living in a cloud of irritated frustration, taking longing glances at the path that leads out to the great unknown.

She'd never particularly cared for the rest of the world beyond her hometown. Even now she can't summon more than an idle curiosity about events shaking the world at large.

But she does want to know more about them. Her friends.

About Alm.

She begins paying more attention to news from outside the village. There's never very much of it, and of late there's even less thanks to brigands and thugs making travel ever more hazardous, but what trickles in from pedlars and travelling merchants is that the Deliverance are striking back hard against Desaix's regime and they'll be marching on the castle soon.

She also hears rumours about the new leader of the Deliverance, the young grandson of a famous war hero who appeared out of nowhere and rejuvenated the entire movement, scoring victory after victory against the usurpers.

She tells herself that she's happy that Alm (and she _knows_ , beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it's Alm they're talking about) is doing so well, and tries to ignore the fluttering anxiety in her heart reminding her that once he's tasted such heady success, risen to such a high station, what appeal would there be in returning to a quiet life in Ram?

And then, it happens.

One month or so after Alm leaves the village, an entourage arrives.

It's not particularly big – about seven or eight people, all told. But the weapons they bear and the way they carry themselves speaks of experienced travellers on a long, difficult journey.

For her part, Faye glances at them briefly as she passes through the town square. It's true enough that they stand out amongst the locals, but that alone isn't enough reason for her to pay them much mind.

The lady who appears to be the party's leader seems somewhat familiar. She is dressed in clothes that lend an air of elegance and grace to her person, but her expression is... distant? She's worried about something. Her red hair almost seems to glow in the midday sun, and it feels nostalgic for some reason. Faye takes a second glance back at her, but remembers that she has other things to do.

With hurried steps, she makes her way to Alm's house.

Faye makes it a point to visit the place regularly and to keep things clean. She sweeps the floor, dusts the furniture, and airs the rooms out. She wants the house to be _ready_ to welcome him when he returns.

If he returns.

Every time, like an annoying, buzzing fly, the thought resurfaces. Every time, Faye grabs the thought and pushes it deep, deep into the back of her mind, willing herself _not_ to think about it as she goes about her daily routines.

Today, though, she barely has the time to get started when she hears the front door creaking open.

“Hello?” a woman's voice, clear and airy sounds. “Alm? … Grandfather? Is... anyone here?”

Faye purses her lips and rounds the corner, preparing to inform the newcomer, whoever it is, that Alm isn't here and hasn't been here for weeks, and _anyway_ she has no right to enter somebody else's house unannounced.

She finds herself staring into the face of the woman from the village square. The woman's eyes widen in surprise but she composes herself quickly.

“Oh, I'm sorry – I... I was looking for someone.”

“Yes, I heard you,” Faye is barely paying attention to the conversation. Up close, the sense of familiarity and nostalgia is even more overwhelming. Faye _knows_ this woman from somewhere, she just doesn't know where yet, and judging by the furrowed brow on the woman's head as she tries to stare without making it obvious she's staring, the feeling is mutual. “You know Alm?”

“Yes,” the woman nods and then sighs. “Well, knew. It was a few years ago. I only stayed here for a month or so, but Alm became a fast friend of mine. Him and all his childhood friends, I suppose. I heard they'd left the village, but I wanted to come check for myself.”

The other shoe drops.

“ _Celica?_ ” her voice comes out like a squeak, light and tinged with disbelief.

Celica – because it _has_ to be her, no one else – blinks once and takes a closer look at her.

“Faye? Is that... It's you, isn't it?”

“Yes! And I can't believe – it's been so long! I didn't even recognize you at first!” she's not even sure why she's so happy to see Celica. Probably because right now, any familiar face is a welcome sight.

Celica chuckles a little at that, “I have to admit I didn't recognize you either. But you look well.”

Does she? She doesn't think so, but she decides that disagreeing about it now won't help.

“Well, in any case, if you're here about Alm,” Faye sighs and smiles ruefully. “Then I'm afraid the rumours are true. He left to join the Deliverance.”

“Oh, I – I see. Then – is what they say about Zofia Castle...?”

“I don't know. There isn't that much news that makes its way down here. I mean, last I heard they were planning on attacking it, but who knows if they've succeeded, or even actually tried yet.”

Celica bites her lower lip, and bows her head, “I see. In that case, I'll have to -” she is already turning away, but then she pauses and turns back, a question in her eyes. “Wait, if Alm left, then Gray, Tobin and Kliff...?”

Faye feels the ache in her heart intensify for a brief moment but she ignores it as she speaks, “They went with Alm. Gray said something about impressing the girls, Tobin heard that the pay is good, and I think Kliff was just so bored he wanted to go _anywhere_ that wasn't Ram."

Celica's eyes are now set, and the furrow in her brow is even deeper, “And he left you here alone?”

The same thought that had oozed through her mind a thousand times somehow manages to feel new and unpleasantly harsh when spoken aloud by someone else. But it's the truth, and Faye merely sighs in acknowledgement.

“He... doesn't think I'd like it outside the village,” or at least that's what she _hopes_ he thinks, and she hopes that he thought of her at all before he left town with a sword at his hip and the fire of purpose burning in his eyes. That part she keeps to herself. Suddenly a new thought strikes her and opens her mouth, “Are you on some sort of quest or journey too?”

Celica smiles and nods, but Faye is perceptive enough to pick up sadness behind the smile, “I am, actually. I'm headed to the temple of Mila. Well, that's the end goal, but right now, I think I'll be stopping at Zofia Castle first.”

_Where Alm is._

Faye feels her heartbeat quicken. This could be her chance!

To leave the village.

To leave _home_ behind.

To say goodbye to a quiet, peaceful life with no guarantee that she would be ever be able to return.

But staying here wringing her hands, being unable to do anything but to wait and _hope_ that it would all turn out okay (that Alm would come _back_ ) is even worse.

And so she opens her mouth to speak, “Celica, do you think... maybe I could... come with you?”

Celica's mouth opens slightly at the unexpected question before her expression grows stern, “I'm not going on some vacation, Faye. It's dangerous beyond the village walls.”

“I know! Why do you think I never left myself? But... I don't want to stay here all alone.” _I don't want everyone else to leave me behind. Not anymore._

Celica looks at her for a long moment, and then she nods as a smile breaks on her face, “Well, if you're absolutely sure, then I won't refuse. Just be prepared for what you'll face out there.”

“Oh thanks so much!” and Faye realizes to her surprise that she _is_ looking forward to travelling with Celica, spending time with her and learning what the enigmatic girl who appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as suddenly has been up to.

And of course, if Celica was headed to Zofia Castle, and the Deliverance was headed to Zofia Castle, and Alm was with the Deliverance...

“I'll – I have to go pack,” Faye says hastily. “And – and say goodbye to everyone! Are you in a hurry? I can be ready in a couple of hours so – ”

Celica laughs and the sound seems to fill the room, making it just a little bit brighter, “Take your time. I'm sure my friends want to take a breather anyway.”

“Oh, okay then!” Faye smiles as begins to walk towards her home.

It is only when she crosses the doorway of the house that she pauses.

If she's gone, no one will be there to look after Alm's house and make sure it's kept clean.

She sighs in frustration and decides that she'll just have to live with that.

(X)

 In between throwing everything she wanted to bring with her into the biggest sack she had, hastily explaining what was going on to her bewildered parents, and brief but tearful farewells, it's nearly nightfall by the time she appears at the village gates, struggling for breath and stammering out hasty apologies for being late.

She wonders if they've decided that it will be too dangerous to travel when it's dark and if her delay has forced them to spend the night in the village but Celica assures her that it'll be fine – by all accounts the local groups of brigands have been routed and any survivors are laying low. Night travel will be safe until at least the next town.

One of Celica's friends – the male one – grumbles that there's still the danger of passing too near a graveyard and getting an army of Terrors on their tails but another friend – a young energetic girl with pink hair tied back into thick twintails – snorts and points out that Terrors will rise and attack them just as enthusiastically under the light of day so it doesn't matter what time they travel.

And Celica smiles and chuckles at their lighthearted argument before turning to Faye and gracing her with a smile.

“Faye, are you ready?”

“As much as I'll ever be,” Faye smiles as well, and takes a step forward.

_Where are you now, Alm?_

_I've set out on my own too. And I'll catch up with you soon, I'm sure._

_But... what will I do when that happens and I find you? I don't really know that yet. But I know I can't sit back any longer and just wait._

_So... wait for me. Wait for me, and don't drift too far away, okay?_

 

* * *

  **Prologue End**

* * *

 

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment!


	2. When She Got The Chance To See Alm, But Didn't

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

 

The first time Faye ever killed someone, it took her several days to even realize what she had done.

They had just been children then, bright-eyed kids out on an adventure into the woods (and well, trying to find where Alm and Celica had snuck off to). And then, suddenly, they had been surrounded by faceless giants clad in steel. In hindsight they hadn't been any bigger than the grown-ups in the village, but fear and surprise had swelled them in their imaginations into towering shapes that blocked out the sun.

She had been all but paralysed with fear as the soldiers threatened and cajoled them. As Gray and Tobin tried without success to persuade the soldiers to leave, she had cowered, unable to look any of them in the eye or to even join her friends to offer support.

And when one of them, the leader, by the looks of it, had seized her by the arm and threatened to hurt her unless the children did exactly as commanded, she felt a hot, black terror that tightened around her chest and made it impossible to breathe.

But Alm had saved her then, tackling the soldier and forcing him to release his grip on her. She could still recall that moment as vividly as if it had happened yesterday. He had saved her, heedless of the risk, putting himself between her and the soldiers and telling them to back off.

But reality had reasserted itself, and one brave boy was simply no match for a squad of trained spearmen.

And so they had fled. Aided by the sudden arrival of Sir Mycen, they had run to a nearby cemetery and Alm's grandfather had told them to arm themselves and hide amongst the scattered gravestones.

Customs in Ram dictated that family members be buried close to each other, and so it was easier than anticipated to find a larger-than-normal pile of stones that the six frightened kids could huddle together in, hopefully hidden from view.

Faye had sat as still as she could, trembling and on the verge of hysteria as the shouts of heated battle came from the cemetery’s entrance as Sir Mycen fought to defend them from the soldiers. She could see Celica, crouched at her side, her eyes wide and unfocused as she grasped a dagger – one with a strangely ornate handle – close to her chest. Opposite her in their little circle was Gray, mouth drawn into a thin line and expression strangely calm as he stared at the ground in front of him.

And then suddenly a shadow loomed over them and Faye gasped in fright. She would have screamed except that terror had constricted her throat and she barely managed a squeak. The soldier's face had warped into a cruel sneer, and he was holding his lance in a ready position.

“Get him!” a yell from Alm as he took the initiative, leaping forward and swinging his weapon. It was the training sword he used when practising with his grandfather and the edge was dulled, but the momentum of his charge was enough to take the soldier by surprise and he stumbled back from shock.

And then suddenly it was if something in Faye had snapped. It was fight or flight, and acting on instinct more than anything, the hunting knife she'd always carried with her was drawn and she was screaming incoherently as she charged the man alongside Gray and Tobin.

In the confused jumble of kids yowling and screaming as they tried to bash through his armour or yank his spear from him, Faye somehow found herself at the soldier's back. His legs were armoured, mostly – but the joint at the knee was not. Instinctively she thrust out at the weak spot – and she heard the man give a howl of pain as he stumbled.

He fell – but not onto the soft grass. The head cracked hard against the sharp granite edge of a gravestone and with a muffled groan he crumpled and lay still.

All of a sudden she realized everything had fallen silent, save for the thrum of hoofbeats fading into the distance. And then Mycen was there, eyes grave as he quickly looked over each of the children in turn to make sure none of them were wounded.

“We're going back now,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Follow me.”

None of the kids questioned him and they had quickly scurried back home. Faye had only taken one look back at the field, now a quiet graveyard once more, before she ran all the way home, threw herself under the covers of her bed and spent the night shivering and desperately trying not to cry.

It was only several days later that she realized that when the soldiers had fled, they had not bothered to retrieve the one she had knocked down.

(X)

The second time Faye ever kills someone, the person is already long dead.

She is travelling alongside Celica's group, trying desperately not to be aware of how much like the fifth wheel of a cart she felt. The only person she is even remotely familiar with is Celica, and while she had been kind and friendly to her, she is still obviously more comfortable in the presence of her friends from the monastery and is animatedly chatting with them about her nostalgia for the village. Off to the side, three others are walking along in a carefree manner. Though they exchanged no words it was obvious the three of them had been travelling together for some time, and have a bond of some sort.

The only other loner of the group is the mercenary with the eyepatch, but his behaviour marks him as someone who is used to being left to his own devices. He took point at the start of the journey and even now continues to walk ahead of the others, turning his head this way and that to scan the road ahead for danger. Silently, Faye wonders if he's simply working with them because he was hired to do so or if there's any other deeper reason for his taciturn nature.

She scarcely has time to start pondering such things before the man draws to an abrupt halt. The hand that had been resting on the hilt of his sword tightens its grip and draws the blade from the scabbard.

“Saber, what is it?” Celica questions, but she has already drawn her own weapon as well. His judgement is something Celica apparently trusts in.

“Terrors.”

A single word, spoken in a clipped, precise manner, and suddenly everything changes. Faye's eyes widen and she feels her breath catch. She had never _seen_ a Terror before, of course, but she had heard all manner of stories told to her by Gray in (mostly successful) attempts to frighten her. Visions of shambling, putrid corpses with claws like knives, walking skeletons with flaming skulls, stone statues coming to life and taking flight all flash through her mind and she unconsciously takes a single step back.

“Aw man, not _again!_ ” Celica's male friend – Boey, she recalls from when Celica had introduced her to them – lets out a distressed complaint but he is already loosing his pack and tossing it to the ground, one hand cupped in preparation of creating a magic spell to cast.

In fact, the entire group is moving as one, falling into a combat formation with a casual ease that speaks of experience with battle and familiarity with each other. A lithe man with purple hair falls to the back, a confident smirk on his face as he nocks an arrow. The girl with pink hair – Mae – runs forward, a crackling light already gathering in her outstretched hand. The giant clad in bronze storms to the frontline, his lips bellowing a wordless roar of challenge.

And Faye, simple, frightened, inexperienced _useless_ village girl Faye, finds herself rooted to the ground in terror. It's already taking everything she has to fight the urge to turn and run back in the direction of home.

The mercenary – Saber – makes a quick look over their formation and his eye falls on her.

“Hey, girl,” he snaps and he moves over to her. “You have anything to defend yourself with?”

She can only shake her head dumbly as her mind flashes back to the sword she had foolishly left to rust in the yard so long ago.

The man shakes his head, mutters something under his breath and then from his pack he's pulled out another sword – this one significantly more battered and dented than the one he's currently wielding.

“Here,” he shoves it into her hands and he's already turning and running back to the front. “Stay in the middle of the group and don't get into trouble.”

And even as Faye fumbles with the clasps of the scabbard, tries to draw the sword, the battle is joined.

Looking back later with the benefit of hindsight and experience, she has to admit that the fight was honestly nothing much. A few shambling revenants that had crawled out of hastily dug graves, barely outnumbering their party. In the heat of the moment, however, it seems as if the woods around them conceals countless monsters waiting to leap out and tear them all to shreds.

She stands and watches as the others swiftly whittle down the enemy's numbers. A moaning corpse that had charged ahead of the pack falls first, two arrows now sprouting from its neck and eye. Another, with only one remaining arm, lunges forward at the armoured knight, who doesn't even bother to dodge as the attack bounces off metal plates. A kick from the knight knocks the creature down and a stab of his spear finishes it for good. Mae, now sporting a bleeding cut on her shoulder, hurls a bolt of lightning at a revenant, blasting its head clean off. She then stumbles back, only for a soothing light from the last member of the Priory – was it Jenny? Something like that – to cover the wound and heal it.

And then it happens.

Celica is targeted by yet another revenant. She twists, deftly evading the creature's overhand chop, and fire sprouts from her fingertips. The fireball impacts with the creatures chest, blasting a gory hole straight through its midsection. The creature begins to topple and Celica turns away, already intent on seeking another target. And then, impossibly, the creature rallies.

As if in slow motion, Faye watches the revenant straighten up and refocus its empty-eyed gaze on Celica's undefended back. One hand rears back, sharp claws flexing in anticipation of tearing through soft, vulnerable flesh.

“ **NO!** ” and Faye finds she is moving without thinking, her arm swinging up and bringing the sword to bear. She doesn't recall a word of Sir Mycen's teachings, not in this frozen, eternal instant of action, but her body does. She lets instinct take over and roots her body in a firm stance that can absorb the shock of impact, tightens her grip on the sword and strikes – aiming for points she _knows_ are vulnerable and will bring a swift end to the fight if her aim is true.

A horizontal swing, blade held level just above her midsection. The sword Saber had granted her is old, but the edge has been kept sharp in anticipation of being used and it tears through rotten flesh and decayed bone as if they were made of soggy paper.

The revenant utters a final groan as its head slides neatly off its neck, the body tumbling to the dusty ground with a thump. Celica whirls, eyes widening in shock as she takes in just how close she has come to being badly wounded – or worse.

“I – thanks, Faye,” she says to Faye, a grateful smile on her lips. Faye doesn't respond other than a brief nod. She is still staring, wide-eyed, at the monster she has just killed.

“Tch,” Saber's voice cuts through the dull fog of unreality that threatens to cloud Faye's mind and she sees that he's come up to Celica. “No casualties, lass. Nothing a round with Genny's staff won't fix anyway. But the fight's taken a toll of some of the less hardy folk and we'd best find a place to bed down for the night soon.”

And suddenly she is aware that the sounds of battle have died off, already replaced by the sounds of people tending to minor wounds and the gathering of supplies that had been temporarily discarded in the heat of battle.

Celica nods and turns to face Faye, “Faye, we're in Fleecer's Forest, correct?”

“Hm? Oh, ah, yes!” she nods hastily. “I've never been this far out before, but Gray's told me it still take a while to get to the nearest town from here.”

“No, you're right. It's too far to reach tonight. But I believe there's supposed to be a Shrine in the vicinity of this forest. We should be able to rest there.”

“As good a plan as any,” Saber nods and turns away, hollering instructions to the rest of the group.

Faye sighs, wipes the sweat from her brow as she feels the rush of adrenaline fade away, to be replaced by a weariness that seems to seep deep into her bones. Strange. She'd merely fought – and killed – a single monster. She shouldn't be quite so exhausted, should she?

“Faye,” Celica's voice again. “Are you all right?”

“Hm?” Faye shakes her head and tries to find a smile to paste on her face. “Oh yeah! I'm fine. I just – I'm just a little surprised, is all. First time...” she trails off, before taking a deep breath to gather herself, “First time I've been in a real battle, after all.”

Celica's smile is warm and understanding as she moves closer to Faye, tactfully offering an arm in support, “I understand. It can be a bit of a shock at first. It was for me, too. But still, you saved me back there. So again... thanks very much.”

“You're welcome,” Faye finds her own smile feels more genuine as well, as the two of them walk off into the darkening gloom.

(X)

They find the shrine after a brief search (the dirt paths leading north of the woods are a bit of a giveaway), and though there are signs that it has been inhabited recently, the area is empty.

“Maybe it was the brigands' hideout before they got chased out,” Boey says as he lifts the lid of a pot and peers inside. He wrinkles his nose, obviously not finding whatever is in there to his liking.

“You think? But who would do that? There aren't any Zofian soldier detachments in the area that have the muscle to chase out an organized group,” Mae picks up a discarded orange and apparently deciding that there's no point in being picky, begins to peel it in preparation for eating.

 _It's Alm. Alm and the others, they would be strong enough._ Faye thinks but keeps the thought to herself. Mae and Boey have likely never heard of him anyway.

Soon enough, they're in the central room of the shrine – a domed chamber that houses a statue of the Mother Mila. Faye automatically makes the standard gestures of obeisance as she enters and everyone begins looking for a place to roll out their sleeping bags and call it a day.

Faye is tired too, but her mind is still abuzz with recollections of the earlier fight and she finds it impossible to get to sleep. In her mind, she can't help but ponder, and worry. There will definitely be more fights ahead. What then? She isn't going to delude herself into thinking that her victory today was anything more than a lucky shot against an enemy that wasn't even paying attention to her. In the future, against tougher, stronger foes, what would she do?

What _can_ she do?

She sighs and rolls over, her gaze falling on the statue of Mila once more – and the figure standing in front of it with clasped hands and bowed head.

“Celica?” she murmurs as she sits up, and the priestess shifts her head to look at her.

“Sorry,” she says. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I -” she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. “I couldn't sleep.”

Celica is silent for a moment, and then she sits on the steps in front of the statue, making a gesture of invitation for Faye to join her. She does so, and the two sit together in silence for a while.

“Are you still thinking about the fight earlier?” Celica finally speaks up.

“No. Well, kind of,” Faye shakes her head, wondering if this was really appropriate to share. If Celica thought she was useless and a burden to them, would she decide to send Faye back?

But on the other hand, if she wanted to ever be anything more than a drag on their party, maybe asking Celica about it would help. And has to admit she doesn't think Celica is the type to just abandon her and send her back like that.

“I'm just worried,” she finally says. “I always knew it was dangerous outside the village, but tonight, I saw battle – real fighting – for the first time. At least, the first time ever since...” she trails off, but she can tell by the hooded expression that steals across Celica's face that she remembers too.

“And you're worried that you're not cut out for fighting?”

“I don't know,” Faye reaches up to rub at her forehead. “I've been trained by Uncle Mycen, at least. And I always felt like I could sort of keep up with Alm and the others, even if I wasn't quite as good. But now... I don't know if what I have will be enough.”

Celica nods thoughtfully before she reaches into her pack, “So, do you think you desire guidance?”

“Guidance?” she supposed that talking to Celica about it was seeking guidance of a sort, but she also has the feeling that it wasn't quite what Celica was talking about. “What do you mean?”

From her pack, Celica brings out a disc. No, upon closer inspection it was a contraption of some kind. A steady ticking comes from within the device, and runes of a foreign nature are neatly embossed upon the face. As she watches, the outermost rings turns to some unknown rhythm.

Faye can see no immediate connection between the guidance Celica is offering and the strange mechanism and so she keeps silent, hoping that Celica will provide an explanation.

“This is Mila's Turnwheel,” Celica obliges Faye's unspoken question as she holds it up to the soft light coming from the statue. “It's a device that – well, it allows you to peer somewhat into the past, and into possible futures as well.”

Faye blinks in surprise, “I can see the future? With this?”

“ _A_ future,” Celica gently corrects. “Sometimes we need to work to make sure it comes to pass, and sometimes we need to do everything we can to prevent it.

“Faye... you could use this if you want. Kneel before the Mother, and seek her guidance. And let the Turnwheel show you a path you can take to seek your goal.”

Hesitantly, Faye accepts the machine. In her hands she can feel the steady thrum from deep within the mechanism. And then she stands and turns to face the statue.

She believed in and worshipped the Mother, of course. What Zofian would not show their gratitude to the Earth Mother who had blessed them with the bounties of the soil, year after year? But, well, the worship had always been towards a distant, impersonal deity. The idea of the Mother actually hearing her specifically while cloistered in her Temple at the far north of the country was a laughable one.

But now, if what Celica said was true, then she could ask a boon of the Mother, and with the Turnwheel, it would be heard.

Taking a deep breath, she kneels before the statue and breathes out a whispered plea for guidance. _Mother Mila, I come before you to seek your aid. Please, what should I do? I don't want to be a burden. Not to Celica, and not to Alm when I meet him again. Show me a path to take so that I can be of aid to them._

Was it her imagination, or is the ticking growing louder?

She opens her eyes in time to see the Turnwheel glowing with light that seemed to come from within – at the same time, the gem affixed in the centre of the statue had also begun to glow.

And then –

Faye gasps and staggers back. Wait, staggered? She had been kneeling-!

But she is now standing, in the middle of a dry, barren land. Sand stretches all around her as far as the eye can see. Around her is the roar of battle, the sounds unpleasantly similar to the ones she heard just a few hours prior.

And in front of her–

Celica is stumbling towards her, one hand pressed to her abdomen. Around that spot, the ragged edges of a hideous wound can be seen, and a dark stain is spreading unpleasantly quickly through Celica's white clothes. Faye's eyes widen and she feels something akin to panic building up within her.

She is no expert, but even she can tell a wound like that will be almost immediately fatal.

“Faye,” Celica gasps out in the weakest, most strained voice she has ever heard the priestess use and it frightens the villager even more. “Help...”

Help? How could she possibly help? She had knowledge of herbs and salves that could be used to soothe cuts and quiet fevers, but none of that will be able to take effect before Celica bleeds out and dies, so how can she possibly –

But even as her mind collapses into panicked fretting she can feel her body move, and suddenly she realizes her right hand is grasping onto a silvery rod. A gem affixed on the tip of the staff begins to glow with a pleasant green light and suddenly, more visions fill her mind – visions of flowers in bloom, of bubbling brooks with water that nurtures fertile soil, of the sun shining upon a meadow filled with butterflies, of _life_ itself and she feels energy flowing out of her towards Celica, and that awful gash is beginning to close as holy light mends the wound.

Faye jerks and Mila's Turnwheel clatters to the ground noisily, fallen from nerveless fingers. She is kneeling again, before the now-silent statue in the chamber. The others are asleep, not engaged in a desperate battle for their lives. And Celica is – Celica is -

“What did you see?”

Sitting beside her, a quizzical smile on her face as she retrieves the Turnwheel. She is alive and well, not wounded and on the verge of death in some Mother-forsaken desert.

Faye closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath, “I saw...” she wonders if she should share the full extent of the vision and plead with Celica never to venture into a desert. But something quiets her voice. If the vision looks to be coming true, there will be time to warn her of it. “I saw myself. Some time in the future, I think. I was... healing you.”

She digs into the recesses of her mind and finds new information she didn't know before. Was this the guidance provided by the Mother? “I was... will be? It's a little confusing, but I think the path she showed me is... me, becoming a cleric of the Mila Faithful.”

A delighted smile comes across Celica's face. “Oh, that would work! That means you've an affinity for the divine magics practised by the clergy! And I had no idea!”

“O-oh?”

“Indeed,” Celica raises a hand gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I won't deny that becoming a cleric will take a lot of time and work, but... well, if you're willing to follow the path Mila has set for you, then I would be happy to help guide you down it.”

Celica's already done so much for her merely by letting her travel along, but the offer is freely given, and Faye can tell that Celica's is excited at the prospect of being a teacher and mentor towards someone else. She won't deny that she also wants to learn more. Anything so she won't be a burden.

Anything so she won't be left behind.

And so she smiles and nods. “Thank you,” her voice is soft but sincere.

(X)

The next day is nowhere near as pleasant for Faye.

Perhaps it was due to the more relaxed pace of their march. When Celica had introduced her to everyone on the first days, there had of course been the requisite 'hello's and 'it's nice to meet you!'s. But after that they had mostly kept to themselves for a while. Now, perhaps emboldened by the time they had spent travelling together so far, they decide to be more friendly with her, and to strike up conversations.

And she hates it.

She doesn't know any of them. She's pretty sure she doesn't share any interests with them. And deep in her heart, she thinks that after this journey is over and done with, she's never going to see any of them again. So... honestly, what's the point in talking?

She wants to turn them down with polite but firm words, but she can't. Perhaps if the group was larger, perhaps if Alm, Gray, the others were around, and she could remain with the comforting familiarity of the people she knows or vanish into anonymity amongst the crowds. But she can't do that, she's in a small party where everyone knows everyone, and if she acts too curt or dismissive Celica will hear of it. Celica, the only person in their little group whose favour she actually cares about.

So she bundles it deep inside her when Mae comes up and begins asking her questions about herself and life in the village. Faye keeps her replies polite but short, telling her about the small garden she tends and the vineyard her family keeps.

She probably isn't as good at hiding her feelings as she thinks, because after a few minutes Boey, who is walking alongside the both of them, sighs, “Come on, Mae. Can't you tell she's not comfortable talking so much about herself?”

“Well, yeah, but -” the expression on Mae makes it clear that she _wants_ to crack Faye's shell and right then and there Faye decides she doesn't like the energetic, excitable girl. “Well, there's gotta be _something_ you want to talk about!”

And before Faye can say anything else, Mae claps her hands together delightedly, “Ooh, I know. Got any boys you like? Back at the village, maybe?”

In most any circumstance, Faye would be more than happy to talk about Alm. Well, she preferred contemplating him on her own but talking was fine too. But right now Mae's words are a pressed thumb on open wounds, a reminder that _he left her behind_ and Faye can't keep the expression of hurt from coming across her face.

Mae has _some_ tact, at least, and she freezes when she sees the look on Faye's face, “Sorry! Touchy subject, huh? I get it! Sorry, I won't bring that up again!”

Boey sighs, “All right. Sorry about that, Faye. _We_ ,” he puts some emphasis on that word. “Will give you some space now.”

The two of them drift further from her as they continue to walk. Faye stares at the ground in front of her, carefully working on keeping her face impassive.

(X)

That night is her first lesson on the ways of sisterhood and magic.

“All right,” Celica says as she lays open a book in front of her. The script is written in some kind of ink that catches the light thrown off by the camp fire, making it seem as if the words themselves are glowing. “The standard practice for becoming a cleric of the Faithful usually involves a minimum of two years as an acolyte in a priory, but given the circumstances, I think we can waive that for now.”

It's a feeble attempt at a joke, but Faye smiles anyway.

“Now, let's talk about magic.”

“You mean the healing spells that members of the Faithful use?”

“Partly,” Celica nods her head. “There are many different magics used in order to provide healing and comfort, but two spells in particular are sacred to the faith.”

She flips a page in her tome, and Faye can make neither head nor tails of the words on this page. There are two words written larger than all the others and in a heavily stylized format, in the centre of both facing pages. And for some reason, she feels a palpable sense of unease simply looking at the page. As if the very words themselves hummed with an invisible power that she could only just faintly perceive.

“This is the script of the Divine Dragons,” Celica continues her explanation as she runs a hand along the worn pages of the book, her fingers trailing gently across the ink. “Translated to our tongue, this is the word for 'Recovery'. And this word... well, there's no direct translation I know of, but 'Vampirism' might be an approximation. We refer to it as 'Nosferatu'.

“These are the First Magics, granted to us as gifts by both Duma and Mila when they first descended upon Valentia. It was their offering, their proof that they came not as conquerors but as guiding lights who wished for us to prosper.”

Celica's voice is low now, and as Faye glances at her face she can tell the priestess is reciting this lesson from her memory.

“These spells also represent the dual nature of both Duma and Mila. The spell of Recovery represents Mila's blessings, and is the ability to give to others, to cure wounds and aid those in need. On the other hand, the spell of Nosferatu represents Duma's philosophy of power. If you would seek succour, then seize it with your might and with your own hands. All clerics of the Faithful must learn these two spells, to represent both the Father and Mother.”

“Wait,” Faye frowns as she studies the pages more closely. “Mila clerics must learn a spell from Duma? I thought we all hated Duma! Or, or we're _supposed_ to hate him, at least? I mean, I hear people keep referring to him as a 'Fell God' and stuff like that.”

The book is closed with a soft 'thump' noise and Celica nods, “It's true that both Mila and Duma could not reconcile their different philosophies on how to guide humanity. So they parted ways forevermore, and created the Divine Accord that separated Zofia and Rigel. But you need to remember, Faye, that in the very beginning they worked together to lead humanity. Learning both spells is an acknowledgement of the past union that once existed...” she trails off, and a sheepish note enters her voice. “And, well, this is just my own opinion, but it also represents the hope that maybe, one day, they could come together again.”

“I see...” Faye smiles. “Coming together again, huh? That's a nice thought.”

Celica smiles as well.

And so Faye begins training. She holds the heavy tome in her hands, recites the words Celica tells her to recite. She learns to meditate and feel the magic that sings deep within her. She listens and catches faint whispers of the voices of the spirits and she feels her own union with the Earth Mother grow slightly, ever so slightly deeper.

And one day she passes a hand over a cut that Kamui had received during their travels, and a soft light flares from her open palm. When the light vanishes, the cut is gone and the mercenary is smiling.

“Not bad,” he gives her a lazy two-fingered salute, a gesture of thanks before he heads back to the front of their group.

Faye turns to look behind her, an ecstatic smile on her face. Celica had been standing behind her, and she is smiling too.

“Congratulations, Faye!” she rests a hand on Faye's shoulder. “You did it!”

“I couldn't have done it without you teaching me,” she says in all sincerity and honesty. She is happy, for once, truly happy at what she has achieved. “So thanks, Celica.”

_I can't wait to show Alm! I bet I'd really surprise him with how much I've grown._

She is grateful for Celica's help and guidance, and she begins to feel a real sense of kinship with the priestess, now that she is following on the same path as her and that they have something really shared that they can bond about.

That feeling lasts for a week.

(X)

It is seven more days of travel until they reach the Zofian castle. They had kept their ear to the ground, and the latest news has just arrived – it has been reclaimed by the Deliverance. Faye's heart beats faster at the thought. Alm would be at the castle. He has to be.

She'd thought Celica would be overjoyed by the news, but she remembers seeing her friend's expression clouding over when the soldier they had been talking to informed them about what had happened. Faye isn't quite sure why, but she decides not to press the issue.

Plus, she's just a little too focused on getting to the castle as fast as possible. To where Alm would be waiting.

When they approach the castle, she hears Mae and Boey exclaiming in wonder at the sheer size of the thing. For her part, Faye wrinkles her nose. True, it's massive, but... she doesn't feel comfortable looking at it.

Matters are not helped when she steps into the main hall of the place. It's huge. Far too huge, far too impersonal and cold. The opulent luxury all around is alien to her, and Faye briefly flashes back to her cosy home back in the village.

On some unspoken agreement the party splits up, each to go their own way until it is time to meet again later and see about the next leg of their journey. For her own part, Faye begins to look through the side rooms, trying to find where Alm had cloistered himself up in.

The sounds of cheering and celebration come from all over the castle, and while Faye can't begrudge them being happy at their success the noise is honestly starting to give her a headache. She sighs as she opens another set of doors to an empty room.

“Wait, hang on, is that – Faye! Faye, is that you?”

The voice isn't Alm's, but it's familiar and friendly all the same and she turns around to see Tobin looking at her, eyes wide.

“Tobin!”

“So it _is_ you!” Tobin barks out a surprised laugh. “What are you – How in the world did you make your way here?”

She isn't quite sure how to respond to that question but she's spared the need when Tobin hurriedly ducks around the corner. A second later, his call floats her way as well.

“Gray! Kliff! It's Faye! Faye's come all the way to Zofia Castle!”

In moments she surrounded by smiles and incredulous laughter, and for a brief instant she is _home_ again, listening to Gray's boasting, Tobin's questions and Kliff's sarcastic quipping. But she's not home, she's in a strange unfamiliar castle and anyway Alm's absence is a presence in and of itself, reminding her that someone is still missing.

“So how did you get here, anyway? And how are things back home?”

“Oh, things are fine,” she raises an eyebrow and cocks her head to one side. “After you all left with barely a word, I didn't have much of anything to do except sit there and watch life grind on, all on my own.”

A shadow of something like guilt flashes across Gray's face.

“Oh, and Tobin. Your mom wanted me to tell you your family is doing fine. She's still a little put out that you ran off all of a sudden, but she says she's grateful you're sending money back.”

Kliff sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I take it you're still upset we all left you behind.”

The smile on her face doesn't falter, “Should I not be?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Gray lowers his head. “We messed up. Sorry. I got nothing to say except we were kind of in a rush. We wanted to beat the clock and leave before it got dark. But we should have come to say goodbye at least.”

“Or asked if I'd wanted to come along,” Faye sighs and settles down on a nearby chair. Her eyes widen in momentary surprise as she sinks a lot deeper into the cushion than she would have anticipated.

“Really? But...” Tobin shares a glance with Gray before continuing. “But we thought – I mean, Alm thought -”

“Alm?” her ears prick up and judging by the expression on her friends' faces, they'd noticed the change in her demeanour. “What did he say about me?”

“He... well, we talked about it and we thought that...” a note of hesitancy enters Tobin's voice.

“We thought you would not wish to leave the village. After all, you'd always expressed your desire to stay there and live a peaceful life,” Kliff finishes the sentence in the blunt manner he always does. And something in Faye's heart suddenly loosens and her shoulders feel just a little bit lighter. At least they had thought about her and considered what she'd wanted before they left.

“Yeah, and what we were heading out for was anything _but_ peaceful,” Tobin says as he rolls up his sleeve. There's a hastily dressed wound on his upper arm, but fresh blood is still oozing out. “Got this during the fight to free this place. And believe it or not, this is low down enough on the list of wounds that nobody's gotten the free time to patch me up yet.”

“You were walking around with something like that?” instinctively, Faye stands and reaches out a hand. “Hold still.”

“Faye? What are you-” he is cut off by the light of the Recovery spell flowing from her hand into his wound. “Hey – wow! The pain's gone! When did you learn how to do _that_?”

“Oh, Celica taught me,” Faye lets a hint of the smug enter her voice and her tone. She's dangling a hint, a not-so-subtle reminder that she's had an adventure of her own and they don't have a monopoly on leaving the village and going out to see the world.

“Celica?” Gray's eyes are wide now. “Seven years ago, _that_ Celica? The little crybaby? She's with you now?”

“Uh-huh!” Faye nods. “She stopped by in Ram about a month after you left. And she agreed to let me travel with her. That's how I was able to make my way here.”

“Well, good for you, then!” Gray is all smiles once more and he slumps into the chair next to hers. “So, what are your plans? Where's Celica heading next?”

Faye blinks and realizes she isn't quite sure. But... “What about the Deliverance? You've beaten the usurpers and reclaimed the castle. Haven't you finished what you set out to do?”

Gray snorts and one hand reaches up to massage his forehead, “Not by a long shot. We got the castle back, yeah, but -”

“That rotten chancellor got away!” Tobin cuts in, his face now in a frown. “Alm set up the _perfect_ ambush for him but it turns out the guy we nabbed was just a body double. Can you believe it? Setting someone else up just to take the fall like that?”

“Not to mention Slayde. We were able to drive him off, but were unable to capture him.”

Slayde? The name sounds familiar... unpleasantly familiar. Faye has to repress a shudder at the mention of the name.

“And, get this!” Gray's sitting up straighter now. “Alm went and declared war on Rigel! On the empire!”

If Faye's eyes had widened at the earlier influx of news, now they feel like they're going to bulge out of her skull. “He _what!_ ” she gasps.

“He said that he had to do what it took to make sure that Rigel cleared themselves out of Zofian soil. I dunno about you, but that's a declaration of war in my book.”

Faye slumps back in her chair and feels a wave of dizziness pass over her. Of course Alm would do something like this. Not just out of bravery or recklessness, but out of his sense of duty to protect the people of Zofia. He would face down any foe in that case.

It was one of the things she'd always admired about him, but now...

Then she frowns.

“So... where's Alm now?”

(X)

She trots – almost jogging – through the hallways. _Why_ _do they have to be so_ _**long**_?

Still, she's almost there. If the instructions Tobin gave her were correct, the next set of doors will lead her to the main staircase that will take her up to the balcony. Where Alm is.

Barely slowing her pace, she throws herself forward, pushing open the doors-

Just in time to see Celica sprinting up the staircase as well, as fast as her legs will take her. As she rounds the winding stairs, she stumbles, and Faye catches a glimpse of the expression on her face.

And she freezes.

She remains entirely still as Celica continues her way up the stairs and disappears through the doorway that leads to the balcony. She is silent, save for the sounds of her ragged breathing. Suddenly, it feels as if there is no longer any air in her lungs. No, it feels as if the air is being _squeezed_ out of her lungs.

Celica. How could she have missed it? Celica, who had always clung to Alm like a shadow back in Ram. Celica, who Alm had always sought out during her short stay in the village. Celica, who had diverted her own pilgrimage from Mila's Temple towards Zofia Castle once she heard that Alm might be there.

And Faye had been so eager, so excited, to chase after Alm too that she had never stopped to question it.

_Celica._

She hangs her head, feeling the pressure in her chest get even worse. Even-

“Faye?”

Another familiar voice. But not the voice of her friends. It is gruff and aged and she lifts her head.

“Uncle Mycen?” she blurts out. “Where have you – No one could find you after Alm left the village! What happened to you?”

Alm's grandfather stands in front of her and heaves a sigh.

“I had my own journey to make, lass. My own tasks to fulfil. Let's leave it at that,” he walks over to her and looks her up and down with an appraising eye. “But what about you? I heard you decided to travel with Celica?”

“Yes,” the word feels bitter on her tongue now. But a new possibility blossoms in her mind. “Well, at least until as far as Zofia Castle. But now... I don't know. Maybe I might go with the Deliverance instead. They and Celica are going different routes, aren't they?”

“As far as I know,” Sir Mycen's shoulders relax slightly although something enters his eyes that she can't quite read. “Are you okay, girl? You look like you just had a bit of a shock.”

She doesn't want to discuss _that_ with anyone right now, least of all Alm's grandfather and so she simply lowers her gaze to the floor. But then she knows that he's always been a perceptive one and as he steps closer she realizes that this isn't going to be a matter so easily dropped.

“Oh, lass, I know what you just saw. And I'm not going to be the one to tell you how you feel is wrong. But don't bottle it all up. You owe it to yourself to be more open. To Alm, and to Celica, too.”

She shakes her head, unwilling to talk. No matter how wise Sir Mycen might be or how much truth there is in those words, right now she just wants to be left alone.

“Faye,” there is steel in that word, and while Mycen may have been Alm's grandfather and a family friend, he is also her teacher and her body instantly snaps to attention. “I... don't have that much time here. If I could I'd do everything possible to help you work through this situation, but for now this advice will have to be enough. You feel wretched right now. You don't want to talk to anyone. And that's fine. But once the shock passes, once you feel better prepared, talk about it. Make sure everyone involved knows where things stand. But don't do it in a moment of anger or you-”

“You stubborn _JERK_!” the cry is loud enough to echo through the hallways of the castle, and both Faye and Mycen lift their heads to see Celica stumbling down the stairs she had run up so eagerly a moment ago. Her face is screwed up with anger and pain, and as she reaches the lower floor she begins walking hurriedly towards the exit of the castle, not even pausing to acknowledge the two of them.

“Might say something you'll regret later,” Sir Mycen finishes with no change in tone.

And Faye hesitates for a moment, torn between running up the stairs herself or chasing after Celica. Her first instinct is to go up and comfort Alm. If there had been an argument strong enough to leave Celica acting like that, then Alm had to be feeling bad too, surely?

But as she tries to ponder such things she finds her mind can't properly form the image of Alm wracked by grief and sorrow. He is too strong, his face too determined and resolved, his back too straight. Instead the sight of Celica, with tears running down her face and agony written on it, is all too clear in her memory, the image rippling in her mind and jabbing a needle deep into her heart.

Almost without realizing it, she finds her legs carrying her forward, towards Celica's retreating figure.

And away from Alm.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Watch me as I try to explain as many random gameplay elements as part of the lore and setting as I can. Promotions are Mila's guidance via the Turnwheel. Spells are the gods' gifts. Gaining a horse out of nowhere when promoting is Mila's bounty (not really).

Faye can be quite passive-aggressive and snippy when she's confronted with stuff she's not interested in or upset about, so I hope I brought it through properly here.

And going by the passive Support bonuses, Faye is actually closer to Mycen than one might think. It's an interesting detail, as well as the fact that Faye specifically references him in one of her victory quotes.


	3. When She and Alm Went On Separate Paths

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The first time Faye ever saw a pegasus and its rider, she had been enthralled.

It had been an afternoon like any other. She had sped through her chores for the day and then rushed out to play with her friends. That day, Gray and Tobin had been the bandits looking to rob the village of their hard-earned coin, and Alm was playing the part of the hero who defended the people from their advances. Faye had fallen into position beside him as naturally as breathing while Kliff sat on the sidelines, looking nervously at the sticks they were waving as if they were deadly as actual swords.

“Give us the gold and nobody gets hurt!” Gray yelled, a fierce grin plastered on his face.

“Never! In the name of the king, and for the people of the village, I'll chase you all away!” Alm had countered before the two groups charged each other, waving their weapons with wild abandon.

Before any of them could take a swing at the other, though, there was the sound of beating wings coming from above them, and Faye had caught sight of a something swooping in down from on high.

“Hey, what's that?”

“Whoaaaa...”

Their game already forgotten, the kids had turned to stare as something vast and white dropped from the sky. As it neared the ground its descent slowed, allowing Faye to take in the details of this creature. It almost looked like the horses from the village, but this was pure white instead of the tans and dark browns of the local beasts. And, of course, there were the massive, feathered wings on its flanks that were spread out, seemingly wide enough to cover the sky.

In other circumstances Faye might have been frightened or at least wary in the presence of something new that she was not familiar with. But something about the flying horse invoked not fear but awe. The creature was majestic, even though Faye barely understood the word at the time.

The children were all there as the rider dismounted and headed for a nearby store owner. Through snippets of overheard conversation they learned that she was here for a mundane purpose – part of an escort group for merchants travelling from the eastern lands. She had merely come to buy some of their wine while on leave and took her pegasus for the sake of expediting her travel.

None of that mattered though. The five of them were crowded around the creature, every one silently daring one of the others to be the first to walk up and touch it.

Finally, on an impulse and trying to impress Alm, Faye reached out and gingerly rubbed her palm against the flying horse's snout. The beast snorted once and batted its eyelids but gave no other response to the girl's actions.

“H – hello, Mister Flying Horse.”

“His name is Farron, if you want to know.”

As it turned out, the rider was friendly enough and she was willing to entertain the children's questions while she waited for her order to be fulfilled. And so they learned that the flying horse was in fact called a pegasus, she came from a land far to the east called Archanea (and more specifically, from a country called Macedon), and that pegasi were extremely picky about who they allowed to ride them; in particular, they only allowed women to be their riders for some reason.

When it was time for her to leave and after she bid them all farewell, Faye stood there staring at the pegasus as it slowly shrank into a white dot, barely distinguishable against the bright blue of the sky.

“Well that's not fair,” Gray complained as he kicked at a rock on the ground. “How come only girls get to ride pegasi?”

“Well, I'm not going to let that go to waste!” it was rare that being the only girl of the group was a flat-out advantage for her, and it wasn't in her to let that particular chance slip by. “When I grow up, I'm definitely going to be a pegasus rider like her!”

“But, aren't those pegasi only found across the sea?” Kliff looked away as if he could peer across the ocean himself and see the other continent she had told them about. “How will you get one then?

“Oh yeah...” Faye bit her lip and shrugged. “Well, I'll figure something out after I grow up.

“And then!” she whirled around to face Alm. “I'll let you ride on the pegasus behind me, Alm! I'll take you waayyyy up into the sky and we'll be able see the whole of Zofia from where we are. But! Only if you ask me nicely and treat me like a gentleman should.”

Alm laughed and ignored the rest of the group rolling their eyes, “Okay then! It's a promise!”

Faye nodded and smiled. “Yup! A promise!”

(X)

The second time Faye ever sees a pegasus and its rider, she's almost in too much of a bad mood to care. But it's still a rare sight, and anyway the way they're flying indicates trouble awaits them up ahead.

She narrows her gaze as she catches sight of two riders swooping through the sky, dodging and weaving in tight, graceful arcs. The two of them are in a battle of some kind, and it's apparent they are incredibly skilled warriors. It's also just as apparent that they're badly outnumbered and on the defensive.

She catches a glimpse of the people attacking them. They're a rough looking lot, dressed in shabby clothes and using the strength of numbers to corner the two fliers. She then sees a flash of brilliant red across white and realizes that one of the pegasi is wounded and can't fly too high – and it's that disadvantage that's preventing the pair from safely extricating themselves from the melee.

Her first instinct is to move to help the two riders. But then she wonders if they're the ones in the wrong and the others are just trying to get payback. It's not like she knows anything about either group.

“Pirates!” she can hear Valbar shout and she resists the urge to wince at the man's booming voice. “Come on, we need to drive them off!”

“Agreed,” Celica nods and her weapon is already in her hand. “Let's move!”

“Actually, we really should-” Saber cuts himself off and sighs. “Never mind. I know you're not changing your mind anyway. Lead the way, lass.”

That's right, Faye thinks as she begins to move along with the rest of the group and feels a dull pain throb up her leg. Celica is the leader of this group.

And she's part of Celica's group now.

Not Alm's.

(X)

“ _Celica!” Faye runs down the hallway, heedless of the stares she is receiving from the people around her. “Celica, wait!”_

_Celica may be walking as fast as she can, but she isn't running, and it's easy enough for Faye to catch up with her before long. As she nears her, Celica slows her pace but doesn't stop walking, and Faye falls into step alongside her._

“ _What happened?” she asks, as soon as they're in a more private area of the castle. “Did you and Alm...” she trails off, unsure of how to continue._

_Celica doesn't reply immediately, instead closing her eyes and taking several long breaths. She is trying to calm herself down and so Faye moves back to give her space._

“ _We... had a disagreement,” she finally speaks and as she does so her left hand lifts up and begins to massage her right. The action seems unconscious; Celica's gaze is distant as if she is reliving the painful memory of a moment ago. “About... well, about how this conflict should be ended, I suppose.”_

“ _You mean the war?” and Faye remembers what Gray had told her about Alm declaring war on Rigel. Suddenly things start to fall into place and Celica's reaction makes more sense. “I guess... you don't like the idea of Alm taking on the empire either, huh?”_

“ _He wouldn't listen to me,” Celica bows her head and sighs. Then she reaches up once more to wipe away the last of her tears. “How can he be so reckless?”_

“ _No, he's not,” Faye says, automatically moving to defend Alm. She could let it pass if it were Gray or Kliff making a jab at him, but this is Celica. She hasn't seen Alm in seven years and she has no right to make a judgement call on him after a short meeting like that. “He's brave, and he's determined. That's not the same thing.”_

“ _He's declared war on the empire, Faye! All of Rigel! And with the shattered remains of Zofia's military!” Celica face is a mask of anger now and Faye knows she herself is frowning too. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? It's insane!”_

“ _And you think he doesn't know that?” Faye snaps back with a vehemence that surprises herself. She remembers now, that twisting, coiling feeling that had churned in her gut when she had realized that Celica **liked** Alm and that fuels the fire in her words too. “I don't like Alm being in danger either! But he's doing this so all of Zofia – so people like you and me! - can live peacefully without fear of invaders trampling all over us and the only thing you can say to that is to call him reckless? How can you be so-”_

_Don't speak in anger, or you might say something you'll regret later. Uncle Mycen's words flash through her mind. Faye breaks off, bites her lip, and tries to calm herself down._

_But something dark and angry flashes in Celica's eyes and she takes a step back._

“ _Well, if you think so highly of Alm's plans, then why don't you go with him instead?”_

_And Faye's hand bunch into fists and her heart hammers in her chest. From the back of her mind comes a distant voice reminding her that Celica is angry and upset, and that she shouldn't rise to her goading._

_But right now, Faye is angry too._

“ _Maybe I will,” she says softly. Half a minute ago she had been trying to comfort Celica and now she doesn't want to look at her._

_Keeping her gaze fixed ahead, Faye turns and walks away from the priestess, her footsteps echoing loudly through the empty halls._

(X)

The bandits attacking the pegasus riders are clearly unprepared for the arrival of reinforcements. By the time they are aware of the danger, Celica's group is already almost upon them.

Faye lets herself fall behind and tries to keep her attention spread over a wide area. If anyone gets injured, she wants to respond and to heal them as quickly as she can.

The area is unlike the forests and fields around Ram Village. Here, rivers flow downwards from hills and mountains towards the vast ocean visible in the distance. Footing is treacherous along the muddy banks and the combatants have to be as wary of slippery ground as they do the enemy's blades.

She catches sight of Saber at the front lines – he's charged by someone with a large, two-handed axe. He dodges the wild swing, slams the hilt of the sword into the man's head, and leaves him lying on the ground as he turns to seek a new foe. And despite her best attempt to keep track of him he blurs into the crowd, moving deeper into the press of bodies as he seeks his goal.

Faye had gotten the impression that battle was usually two groups lining up against each other and fighting, but now it seems that upon the two lines clashing the entire engagement breaks down into a dozen small melees and clashes, with each fighter jumping in to help a friend, getting waylaid by another enemy, moving closer to and being driven further away from allies in an endless, chaotic dance.

And it's so much more difficult than she'd thought to just keep track of even one person, and she keeps looking back and forth, as shapes blur together in battle and cries of pain sound out. Her own breathing is getting faster as she tries to tell herself to calm down, to just focus.

And then, suddenly, she sees the pegasus that had been wounded earlier. It's landed, is panting heavily, and is obviously incapable of taking flight again. The rider has been forced to defend herself from attacks while atop her immobile steed and she's obviously struggling hard, fighting in a manner she's not used to.

Taking a deep breath, Faye breaks into a run.

Just as she nears, the rider – a woman who looks older than her by a year or two – stabs down on another bandit with her spear. There is a spray of dark blood across the woman's arms and chest, and Faye winces at the sight. Just then the rider notices Faye approaching and she brings her weapon up to bear.

“No, wait, it's okay!” holding her hands up in what she hopes is a friendly, non-threatening manner, Faye slows her approach. “I'm here to help you.”

The woman's eyes narrow – but her spear lowers fractionally.

“I – I can heal you. And your pegasus,” not waiting for a response, Faye moves closer, and begins her treatment. “Oh gosh, you're covered in blood.” Up close the deep blue of the woman's tunic is more apparent, but dark bloodstains cover her body and make it difficult to discern more about her.

“It's okay,” the woman's voice is distracted. Once convinced that Faye isn't her enemy, she's once more paying attention to the battlefield and seeking out potential targets. “Most of it isn't mine.”

It takes a little bit longer to treat her mount, but then the pegasus snorts and shakes it head. It's reinvigorated and clearly wants to take to the sky once more.

“Thank you, traveller,” the pegasus rider begins to smile before her body tenses and then she's bringing her lance up in an arc. “GET DOWN!”

Faye whirls and dodges as quickly as she can once she hears the unexpected warning, but it's too late to avoid and pain explodes in her shoulder as the enemy's sword bites deep into her flesh.

(X)

_No, Faye tells herself as she slumps down in yet another ridiculously ornate chair, I am **not** sulking._

_She's just... contemplating. Wondering why Celica had to be stubborn like that and why she had to snap at her._

_After all, doesn't she realize that Faye's just as worried about Alm as she is? Does Celica think that she doesn't care that Alm is now throwing himself headfirst into a longer, bloodier conflict that seems larger than all of them? And with all that, does she think she has the right to insult Alm like that after he's doing all this for the sake of Zofia?_

_So why does she have to act all distressed and upset when Faye is able to keep her own feelings under wraps?_

_She leans back in her chair and one hand reaches up to massage her temple._

_It's because Celica doesn't understand Alm, she finally decides after a long moment of contemplation. She doesn't want to take away her happiness at finally seeing Alm again after so long (and she silences that traitorous whisper that says maybe she **does** ) but the plain simple fact is that Celica doesn't know what Alm is like, doesn't know the kind of man he's grown up to be. Faye does. Faye knows him, knows his kind generous nature and his strong sense of justice. She knows that Alm would take umbrage at the situation and she knows he won't rest until he's done everything in his power to ensure that things are set right, and so she can't blame Alm for being who he is._

_And if that's the case... shouldn't she be helping him?_

_The thought had bubbled through her mind more than once already, but now that she has a chance to be alone and seriously think about it, the idea sounds more and more appealing. Alm is fighting a war. She wants to be by his side, to offer whatever aid she can._

_He may have not wanted to bring her with him before, but once she shows him her new ability to heal, once she proves she can be useful to him..._

_And anyway, Celica had said as much –_ in a moment of anger, will either of you still feel the same once you both calm down  **stop it** _**–** and really, did she need any more justification than that?_

“ _There you are!” a voice cuts through her reverie and she looks up to see the archer of their group._

“ _... Er, Leo, was it?”_

“ _It's Leon,” he replies with a tiny smile. “And we were starting to wonder where you were. Come on, up and at them. Celica's in a real tizzy for some reason and wants to head out as soon as possible.”_

_Faye blinks stupidly for a moment. Celica wants to rush off? She supposes she isn't too surprised, but..._

_She can just not move from her spot right this instant and that means she won't see Celica again. The Deliverance is still settling down and recuperating from the last battle, and they won't move out for a while yet. There'll be plenty of time to find Alm and convince him to let her travel along with them._

_She can make a clean break with Celica and her group, right here and now._

_But is that what she really wants?_

_She closes her eyes and breathes out as she silently gathers the magic within herself. She can grasp ahold of it now, shape the power of the spirit to her purposes, and she has Celica to thank for that._

_She can be useful to Alm like this, because of what Celica has taught her._

_And for that, if nothing else, she decides that she doesn't want to part ways with Celica while there is still bad blood between them. She should clear the air, at least._

“ _All right,” she nods. “I should go see her and say goodbye.”_

_She jumps to her feet, and ignoring the look of surprise that Leon gives her, begins walking down the hall._

(X)

Faye staggers at the jolt of pain, and she feels warm blood running down her now-limp arm. Twisting, she catches sight of the bandit, eyes dark with rage as he takes a step forward and slashes at her again.

“Get back!” the pegasus rider's lance sweeps forward and blocks the blow, preventing further harm from coming onto Faye. But then another bandit leaps at the rider from behind and she's forced to break off to defend herself.

Faye is left exposed.

The sword flashes at her again. She dodges, barely, and for a moment her mind is a complete blank as she feels the cold edge of panic in her gut.

No, calm down. She has to calm down. She has to _focus_.

She weaves the spell, so much like the spell of healing that she has cast more and more often of late, but at the same time so utterly different. As the bandit rears back, arm raised to drive the blade through her gut, she thrusts her good arm out.

“Nosferatu!”

There's no projectile, no bolt of lightning or ball of fire like the spells she's seen Mae and Boey use so often. Instead light seems to burst out from her target itself, and the man jerks and comes to a complete halt. He utters a choked gurgle, takes a single step back, and then collapses heavily onto the ground

And Faye knows that the man is dead.

An instant later, the light that had come out of – the energy that she had _ripped out of_ the man's body flows to her, and the pain in her shoulder fades away.

“You okay?” she realizes the pegasus rider had seen off her own foe too, and is looking at her with something like concern in her eyes. Faye manages a hasty nod.

“Faye!” she hears Celica's cry and she turns to in time to see her approach at a running pace. “Faye, you shouldn't run off in the middle of a fight like that!”

Faye purses her lips. “I saw she was in trouble and wanted to help her,” she says in reply, raising one hand to indicate the pegasus rider. Her own voice seems to come from far away and Faye has trouble focusing on any one thing. She knows she's expanding far too much effort at _not_ looking at the corpse at her feet.

Celica's expression has changed – there had been relief mixed with exasperated worry when she had first run over, but once she is certain that Faye is all right, her expression grows guarded, unsure.

“... You look pale,” Celica finally ventures as a greeting.

She shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she starts to say, and then her stomach heaves and she pitches over and throws up the lunch she had eaten just an hour ago.

Faye!” She feels Celica's arms, stronger than she would have imagined, holding on to her as she coughs and sputters for breath.

“Come on, we'll get you someplace more comfortable,” Celica speaks to her and she doesn't resist. Instead, she allows herself to be slowly and carefully led away from the field of battle as she feels the world spin around her.

(X)

“ _I thought you said she was only preparing to set out!” Faye says as she breaks into a jog. There's no real ire in her voice but she won't deny that she's annoyed, all the same._

“ _That's what I thought!” Leon is easily keeping pace with her. “But I suppose she must really be in a rush to leave like this.”_

_Faye settles for a frown – or as much of a frown as she can manage while panting for breath. Is Celica really that upset about Alm?_

_Apparently Leon knows the path Celica intended to take – it's through a mountain trail north of the castle and so the two of them head in that direction. Before long she catches sight of the group standing atop the mountain trail. They aren't moving right then, but from all appearance they are prepared to start walking as soon as Faye and Leon catch up._

_And Faye unconsciously slows her pace. Now that the time has actually come for her to say goodbye to Celica, what is she supposed to say? She really doesn't want the parting to be sudden or on bad terms (not like what had happened last time, so long ago), but there's no way to avoid the statement that she's leaving because of Alm, and she's aware that he is a subject not easily brought up amongst the both of them. At least, not right now._

“ _So... you were saying something about goodbyes?” now that they've slowed down, Leon is looking at her curiously again._

“ _It's... a bit personal,” she says. It's a weak attempt at evasion, but something akin to understanding flickers in Leon eyes and he slows down even more to let her move ahead, giving her more space and letting her be alone._

_Celica is securing the straps of some baggage to a horse – probably someone had gotten the bright idea to secure the use of one once they reached the castle – and as Faye nears she turns to face her. Her expression is one of surprise._

“ _Faye? But I thought -”_

_And before Faye can nod to confirm that what Celica thought is indeed true, she hears a rumbling noise from above them. Her instincts scream of danger and as her gaze is drawn upwards she sees-_

“ _Rockslide!” Leon has already seized her shoulder and is now yanking her away. “Move! Don't just stand there!”_

_Leon's shout jogs something in her brain and she breaks into a run. For a moment she thinks she's avoided the worst of it and suddenly she feels her chin slam onto the hard earth and the world spins around her._

_Gradually the rumbling dies down and Faye pulls herself to feet. Or at least she tries to. When she puts weight on her left leg a spike of pain lances through it and she lets out a strangled cry as she collapses onto the ground again._

“ _Faye!” she hears Celica's shout of alarm and she lifts her head to see the priestess – and being accompanying by a masked knight who was definitely not part of the group a moment ago. Faye blinks and tries to focus bleary eyes. Had she hit herself harder than she'd thought?_

_Celica is now at her side and as Faye looks down at her leg she sees a pebble about the size of her head lying close by. An errant missile that had clipped her leg as she ran._

“ _It doesn't look broken...” Celica's attention is focused on Faye's leg and the dark purple mark that has appeared on it. “That's good.”_

_Celica closes her eyes and focuses, and then Faye feels a wave of warm, soothing energy flow through her body. When it fades, the pain in her leg is lessened – but not vanished._

“ _Can you stand?”_

_Faye stares at Celica's offered hand for a moment before she reaches out to grab it. Using Celica as support, she struggles to her feet, wincing as the ache in her leg intensifies. Still, it's now no worse than some of the injuries she'd suffered when playing with the others back in Ram and so she nods to show Celica that she is fine._

_For the first time, she has a good view of the path she had run up a moment ago in a bid to catch up to Celica. It's destroyed, vanished under a small mountain of boulders and Faye has to resist the urge to bite her lip._

_There's no way she can return to castle through this path. Just like that, the decision has been made for her._

“ _You came back,” Celica's voice is soft – worried? relieved? - and as Faye looks at her she isn't sure just how to respond._

_Honesty, she decides, and she gives a shrug._

“ _I... wanted to at least say goodbye.”_

_Celica blinks. “Oh.” She blinks again, as if she isn't quite sure how to respond to that revelation._

“ _Although,” one hand reaches up to rub at her throat, and out of the corner of her eye she sees the masked knight already wheeling his horse around to ride off somewhere. “It looks like I'm going to be sticking with you for the time being, after all.”_

“ _I...” Celica's face twists, as if she wants to say something but the words refuse to leave her tongue. “I'm... sorry.”_

_Faye shakes her head. “Don't be.”_

_As they start down the path again, she has time to sourly reflect on the fact that the pack she had stuffed with her personal effects was still sitting, unattended, in a room of Zofia castle._

(X)

She sits in her room in the tavern and notes that here, the smell of the sea is overpowering.

She knows from hearing scattered snippets of the group's conversations that they had successfully driven off the bandits, but the battle had been harder than anticipated. Even if Faye hadn't embarrassed herself like that earlier they would still have returned to the safety and comfort of the Zofian harbour town so they could recuperate, as well as find out more about the two pegasus riders who had been attacked by bandits.

It's been several hours, and now the sun is starting to sink into the horizon, casting long shadows across the room and painting the entire place a fiery red.

For some reason this scene makes her feel nostalgic. It's soothing, and almost enough to make her forget that a few hours ago, she had killed someone.

She swallows hard.

There's a knock at the door.

“It's open,” she says without looking up.

She hears the creak of wood and the soft pad of footfalls as someone enters the room.

“Faye, can we talk?” Celica's voice is steady, with no trace of hesitation. She's most likely been preparing herself for this.

Faye resists the urge to sigh. She supposed she knew this talk was coming sooner or later, and in all honesty, what better time or place than when she was resting in the relative privacy of a room?

She's still not sure if she's been dreading or looking forward to this, though.

“Sure,” she nods and moves to sit on the bed, letting Celica have the room's only chair.

Celica is silent for a long moment, and Faye can only wonder if she doesn't know what to say or if she knows and if she's trying to psyche herself up to say it.

“I'm sorry,” Celica finally says after a long moment. She takes another deep breath before she raises her head to meet Faye's gaze. “What I said in the castle... I shouldn't have said that. It was out of line.”

“I'm sorry too,” Faye says as she turns to look out the window, reflecting on the events of days past, “I... well, I guess I overreacted a little. I just... don't like it when anyone badmouths Alm.”

“I just wish I were able to apologize to him too.” Celica's expression is rueful and her gaze is now distant. “I was... I'm so worried about him, Faye. I wanted to persuade him not to do something so dangerous, but I guess the words came out all wrong.”

And Faye feels that clawing sensation in her chest again. Celica and Alm... she shakes her head, tries to dispel those darker thoughts. Uncle Mycen's words ring in her mind. She's not ready to go down that path. Not just yet. Not when she's just starting to gain Celica's trust and friendship again.

“You'll have your chance.” She tries to inject a confidence and levity she does not feel into her voice as she speaks. “Once you've found Mila and gotten her to fix the drought, and once Alm gets the empire to agree to a peace treaty, you can meet each other again, and then you'll laugh off that silly little argument in no time at all. Trust me. Alm isn't the kind to hold a grudge over something like that.”

Celica doesn't reply immediately. She starts massaging her right hand for a moment before she speaks, “And also... Faye, I know you wanted to go with the Deliverance. I'm sorry it turned out this way.”

“Don't be silly.” She smiles at Celica. “Look, I'm not going to lie. I wanted to go with Alm. I want to help him! But... it's not like I don't like travelling with you too, Celica. And I want to help you too.”

Celica blinks. “But, I thought... you were upset with me?”

“A little bit, yeah. But... look, I didn't – don't want there to be bad blood between us. I didn't want choosing to go with Alm to be seen as a snub or anything. That's why I originally came to say goodbye, you know? I wanted to take the chance to clear the air too.”

Celica seems a bit taken aback at the news.

“So, don't worry, Celica! I'll do my best to help you reach the temple. I'll do everything I can!”

She trails off then, and looks down at her right hand. She flexes her fingers and the image of a man collapsing to the ground like a sack of dirt sears her mind.

“I'll do whatever needs to be done.” Her voice is softer now, barely above a whisper.

“Faye...” Celica sounds relieved, and Faye supposes that her words have helped to relieve some of the stress Celica is feeling. “Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome!” Forcing her thoughts back to the happier present, she smiles and shrugs. “And I should be the one thanking you. After all, you're not just letting me tag along. You've also taught me so much that I could never have learned on my own.”

“Well, in that case,” Celica says with a hint of a chuckle in her words, and looking up she sees that Celica is now holding a thin book in her hand. “Do you feel up for another studying session?”

Faye feels her smile on her face grow just a little bit wider. “But of course.”

(X)

The next morning comes and the party is ready to set off once more. Saber is nursing a bad hangover and grumpily arguing with Boey that what he does in his own time is his own business. Kamui and Valbar are discussing their preferences in regards to seafood and-

She sees the pegasus riders from the day before standing at the town's exit, quietly taking care of their mounts.

“They're coming with us too?” the question isn't directed at anyone, but someone answers anyway.

“Yuh-huh!” Mae nods and grins. “Turns out that their sister got kidnapped by bandits and we're gonna help them find her!”

“Oh...” she trails off. _That's going to delay our trip to the temple, isn't it?_

But then she supposes it wouldn't be proper to turn away people in need.

She walks over to the two riders, trying not to shuffle her feet. As she nears, the one with blue hair – the one she had fought alongside yesterday – turns to face her.

“Oh, it's you!” a slight smile comes across her face. “I didn't get the chance to properly thank you for helping me yesterday. So, thanks.”

“It's fine,” Faye smiles and shakes her head. “I mean, you helped me too, so we're even. My name's Faye, by the way.”

“Catria,” Catria holds a hand out for her to shake and Faye accepts it after a moment's hesitation. “It's nice to meet you, Faye.”

She nods. “Likewise.”

“Faye!” she hears Celica's shout and she turns to see her friend hurrying over to her, one hand clutching a long, wrapped bundle.

“Celica?” Faye raises an eyebrow and cocks her head. “What's the matter?”

“I put in an order at the smithy yesterday – just before I came to see you, actually. I had to pay extra to get them to work on it overnight, but it got done in time! Here, take a look.”

She hands the package over to Faye, who looks over it for a moment before she gingerly begins to peel away the cloth wrapping. It falls away to reveal a-

“A staff?” Faye's brow furrows. It's beautifully made, she supposes, with intricate engravings running up and down the length of the rod and a brilliant green gem at the tip, but that's not the real reason she's surprised. She knows this staff, she's seen it somewhere before-

“Many clerics use rods like these to help with their spellcasting,” Celica explains, “the jewel at the tip of the staff helps to focus magical energies, and so it creates a stronger effect when the spell is channelled through the rod.”

“I... thanks, Celica,” Faye says softly. She's still distracted by the familiarity of the staff, but there'll be time enough to ponder that later. For now, she should simply appreciate and enjoy her friend's gift to her.

“I'm glad you like it,” Celica smiles. “It should prove useful in the days to come. After all, we're heading straight into a bandit stronghold.”

“Oh, yes, I heard about that,” Faye lifts her head to regard Catria again. “Your sister ended up being captured, wasn't it?”

“She did,” Worry flits across Catria's face as she confirms the news. “We've been doing a bit of digging, and we at least know the culprit. He's a bandit king who goes by the name of Grieth. He's made his base in a fortress north-east of here, in the desert."

And Faye feels a chill of dread go up her spine.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author Notes:**

I'm not sure how clearly I communicated that Faye is in a bit of a confused place during this chapter because events are happening pretty quickly and she's being tossed out of her comfort zone. Her friendship with Celica is partly because she likes Celica of course, but also because in her current situation Celica is the closest thing Faye has to normalcy and familiarity and she's clinging pretty tightly to that.

In any case, I hope all of you enjoyed reading this, and I'd very much appreciate comments or reviews to let me know what you think of my work!


	4. When She Saved Celica's Life

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

“The Mother's blessings manifest through the earth,” Celica's voice is low as she reads from the book that lies open in front of her, “and just as the roots of a tree spread far and wide through the soil yet remain connected, we who all walk our separate paths can still find union together in the Earth Mother. And as each root takes in water to nurture the entire tree, so our individual efforts still come together for the prosperity and the good of all.”

Faye takes a closer look at the book that Celica is reading form. One side is covered in a thick, dense script, words of wisdom and piety that had been passed down for generations. On the facing page is a drawing of a tree. The trunk is massive and sturdy, the branches are lush and heavy with fruit, and the roots of the tree dig deep into the soil below it.

“There's a lot of a nature imagery associated with the Mother, isn't there?” she says as she reaches out to trace her finger along the picture of the tree. The fruit shown are oranges, ripened to the point of bursting, and for a moment she remembers balmy days where she had trooped out with her friends to collect the oranges from the trees that lined the path outside their village. Days filled with laughter and the tang of the fruit's juicy flesh on her tongue.

She shakes her head to dispel those thoughts, and returns her focus to the present.

“Hardly surprising,” Celica says as she turns the page. The next illustration is of a river, wending its way through a meadow filled with colourful wildflowers. “Mila's blessings have always shown themselves most apparently in the bounties of the earth. The plentiful harvests, the lush, peaceful forests, the fields of blooming flowers...” A sigh. “Until recently, of course.”

Faye nods in commiseration. The droughts and famines of the past few years had hit all of Zofia hard, and it was only through the bumper crops of previous years that they were still able to live in relative comfort. But even that couldn't last forever.

“Well, once we reach the Temple and ask Mila for help, that should fix things, right?”

“Well, that's the plan at the very least.” Celica takes a deep breath. “Of course, right now we have more immediate concerns.”

And Faye feels the same knot of worry and fear that she always feels when she contemplates their destination. The desert of Eastern Valentia.

The desert she had seen in her vision.

“Celica...” She can't hide the worry in her voice, and honestly she isn't trying very hard to.

“I know, Faye.” Celica says as she rests her hand on the book and turns to look at her. “You're still worried about that vision from the Turnwheel, aren't you?”

“Well, yes.” Faye closes her eyes and sighs. This isn't the first time they've had this conversation; in fact it's been almost a daily affair ever since Faye realized that their next destination was a desert and her vision looked to be coming true after all. “You were the one who told me that the Turnwheel allows us to peek into the future. And I... I saw you getting hurt really badly. Who wouldn't be worried in that case?”

“Well, even in that vision of yours, weren't you healing me?” A note of levity enters Celica's voice, but Faye can tell it's forced. Celica is – she won't say worried, but she's not dismissing the potential for that predicted future to come true.

“Yes, but, what I was doing in there wasn't – it felt so much more powerful than what I can do now. If you got wounded that badly right now, I don't think I could – I wouldn't be able to heal you.”

As she thinks about it, her anxiety spikes and she's back to fretting if she's really good enough to contribute to the cause. Everyone else has been _training_ and living the life of wandering warriors for so much longer than her... and even if she can cure wounds, it's not like she's unique in that ability.

“Faye.” Celica's hand on her shoulder is gentle and she looks up to see an encouraging smile on the priestess' face. “What you saw is _not_ going to happen. It's a potential future, and we can change it.”

_We can change it by not entering the desert at all._ That statement of defiance withers before it ever makes her way to her lips. Leaving Catria's sister in the hands of bandits isn't an option, and anyway reports from merchants are unanimous that Grieth has been waylaying pilgrims seeking passage to Mila's Temple for years. Storming his base and putting an end to it all is really the best option for everyone involved.

Faye hates it when she can't find a logical argument against something she dislikes, so she sighs and nods, quietly surrendering the argument.

“All right then,” Celica sits back and closes the book with a nod. “I think that should be enough for one night.”

“Thanks, as always.” Faye can tell her smile is weak but she can't find anything to say. Instead she reaches across the table and snuffs the candle. It's still bright enough to see and move around; the roof of the room they had been studying in had long since collapsed and the moon's cold light fills the room.

The burnt out husk of a fortress wasn't exactly a top choice for accommodations, but it was still preferable to simply sleeping out in the open, especially when there had also been reports of increased Terror activity in the region of late. Faye feels a shiver go through her body that has nothing to do with the chill of the night air as she stands and gets ready to go to bed.

In a few minutes she is lying curled up in a thick blanket, and as she tries to get to sleep, she finds herself wondering what Alm is up to right now. Is he getting ready for bed too, and staring up at the same night sky that she is? Or is he caught in a pitched battle at this very moment, fighting for his life in the dead of the night?

She licks lips that suddenly feel too dry, and then curls up tighter into herself, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to think of nothing at all.

Predictably, she fails.

(X)

The morning sun beats down on Faye as she moves through the woods. She keeps her grasp on the bow light, ready to bring it into a firing position at a moment's notice.

At her side, Leon's movements are catlike, and Faye silently marvels at how he can walk through the dry forest undergrowth with nary a sound. She tries to move more quietly too and the crunch of leaves under her boot just ring even louder in her ears.

Still, he hasn't shushed her or told her to be quiet so she supposes she's still doing okay. Leon raises a hand – two fingers means slow down and she does so, obediently falling into position behind him. He inches forward too, and one hand deftly moves to part a low hanging branch.

One finger. Target spotted.

He gives a glance back at her as she hastily nocks the arrow onto the bow. The meaning of the look he gives her is plain. _Ladies first._

She walks in a crouch, moving slightly to the left in order to get a better view. Her gaze sweeps the floor ahead of her – no large twigs to accidentally snap, no small pebbles to waylay her footing.

Finally she's at the correct spot, and she cranes her neck. The target is still there, head bowed low as it looks at something on the ground. Well, that's something. The relaxed posture indicates that it hasn't sensed anything amiss.

At this range, it should be an easy shot.

She aims – there's no wind so no need to account for that – draws the string of the bow back, hesitates a second and aims a little higher to arc the shot – and releases.

The arrow flies true, and it hits the target with a satisfying _thock_!

A squeak of pain, and the rabbit flops to the ground and lies still.

“Nice work,” Leon says as he strides forward. “You've some skill with a bow.”

“I've gone hunting before,” Faye straightens up and wipes the sweat from her face. The lack of wind might have made it easier for her to hit the target, but it also means that its been stiflingly hot ever since the sun rose. “When you grow up alongside four boys you get used to frequent requests for rabbit stew.” She takes a glance at the war bow still slung across Leon's back. “I'm not sure I could make it as an actual archer, though. Firing a homemade hunting bow isn't going to be anything like an actual war bow.”

“The draw _is_ significantly heavier.” Leon nods as he crouches and picks up the dead coney. With smooth motions he draws his hunting knife and proceeds to bleed the kill. Satisfied, he wraps it in oiled paper and deposits it into the basket on his back. “Still, it's mostly a matter of training yourself to get used to it. Anyway, that makes three. That should be more than enough for tonight's dinner.”

“Good thing too,” Faye stretches as she turns and starts to head back. “I could use the break.”

“I noticed.” Leon's voice is casual as he falls into step beside her. “Didn't sleep well last night? Those are some bags under your eyes.”

He has her pegged and she settles for a slight chuckle in response.

There's a moment of silence and Faye knows he's not buying it. Aside from Celica, Leon is the only one who knows that she'd intended on leaving the party and joining up with Deliverance instead. He's been understanding enough not to pry any further than that, at least so far, but it's probably not her imagination that he's also been keeping an eye out for her.

She sighs. It's not exactly unpleasant, per se. But it's a new variable, and something – some _one_ – she isn't used to handling and she's never been very good at adapting to this kind of thing.

“I'm worried,” she says and some part of her mind wonders if this is really good conversation matter with someone she doesn't really know very well. But she's been carrying this ache in her heart for a while now and Celica – Celica, her one real friend in this group, is also the one person she doesn't feel at all ready to share it with. “There's this boy – this friend – he's part of the Deliverance fighting to free Zofia. And... well, I've been wondering how he's doing.”

“A friend, hm?” Leon's smile is knowing, but he doesn't push the matter any further except to give a nod. “Well from what I saw of the Deliverance they seem to know what they're doing. They should be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Thanks.”

The silence between them is more comfortable now and Faye finds herself wanting for something else to talk about.

Food. Food's always a safe topic.

“So, do you know how to make rabbit stew?”

“Oh, _do_ I.” He lets out an indulgent sigh. “Back when it was just me and Valbar I was the one who was always in charge of the meals. Now don't get me wrong, Valbar's amazing in all sorts of ways but he can't boil eggs without ruining them. Anything I didn't know, I learnt, and quickly too. It was that or subsist on a diet of biscuits.”

Faye chuckles at the mental image, and the memory of happier days that it also brings up. “Back in Ram – in the village I come from, I used to try baking things. I was terrible at it – at least at first. But whatever I made, even if it was all burned black and lumpy all over, Alm would eat it and tell me it was great.”

“Alm?” Leon cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at her.

“Ah, he's... the friend I told you about.” Faye shrugs mentally. A name wasn't that big a deal to give away. “And that's why I kept at it. I was happy he ate it and said he liked it, of course, but I also wanted to make sure that one day, when he said it was good, he could really mean it instead of just saying it to make me feel better.”

“And you're more confident in your cooking now?”

“Well, I don't like to boast,” she smiles now, and feels herself puffing up a little from pride, “but you know you've made it when _they_ come up to you on their own and ask you to make something for them.” And no matter how tired she felt, or how busy she was that day, she would make the time to prepare what he asked of her.

Thoughts of that reminded her of times they had spent gathered together in one of their houses for dinner, with the night afterwards spent swapping stories to while away the long hours and she feels a pang strike her heart.

“Well then,” Leon breaks into her thoughts with a warm chuckle, “I have to say I'll be looking forward to tonight's supper, in that case.”

Faye puts on a frown but feels a smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, you're on cooking duty too! Don't think you're getting out of it that easily!”

He smirks, and a laugh bubbles up from deep within her as the camp comes into view.

(X)

“Okay, focus,” Celica is standing several feet away from her, one arm outstretched. In her cupped palm is a glowing ball of light. “Can you feel the energy in my palm?”

Taking a deep breath, Faye raises her staff, clutching it tightly in both hands. The glowing orb is impossible to miss with her eyes, of course, but that's not going to be of any help in directing her magic to travel longer distances.

She breathes in and out slowly, trying to latch on with her own magic to the spell that Celica is maintaining.

Nothing. She frowns.

“It's probably not big enough.” Sitting on the sidelines, Mae gives her opinion. “You gotta feed it more juice, Celica! Remember the first time Father Nomah gave us this practice? The ball was pumped so full of magic it was practically the size of his head!”

“Yes, and the maguc signature he created was so powerful it wasn't any use to us in real life.” Celica has a frown on her face as she glances over to where Mae is sitting. “Remember that in a combat setting you'll have to be able to focus on the spiritual energy of a normal person. That includes those who have no training whatsoever in the mystic arts.”

“Well, yeah, but I figured, for a beginner it'd be better that way, you know?”

“She can do it,” Celica turns back to face Faye, and there's an encouraging smile on her face, “can't you, Faye?”

_Sure, no pressure._ Faye resists the urge to close her eyes. In a real fight that would be suicidal and the whole point of this training is to prepare her for tougher battles ahead.

She focuses again, tries to reach ever further with her magic, whispers half-remembered incantations under her breath-

There!

The gem in her staff glows with light, and her own shining orb of light flies out of it, travelling in a wide arc towards Celica's own spell. The two meet with a sound like a crackling fire being extinguished, and they burst into sparkling motes of lights that twinkle into nothing after a moment.

Mae whistles in admiration. “Not bad! Gotta admit I didn't think you'd get the hang of it so fast. But boy am I glad to proven wrong this time!”

“You most probably still can't use it properly while in combat,” Celica says as she walks over. “It'll take a while before you can instinctively sense people, especially those of us who aren't magically inclined. But once you do, you'll be able to heal people even from range. And frankly, it's pretty impressive you can already do this much so soon.”

Taking a deep breath of air, Faye briefly allows herself to exult in the feeling of accomplishment as it wars with the knowledge that she might not master it in time – after all they're set to enter the desert within the next two days.

“Hey!” Saber calls from the entrance of the village. “The rooms are ready!”

Faye looks around the area. The mountain village they had chanced on was a welcome boon to them – a place to get a good rest just before they took their first steps into the harsh climes of the desert. The place was honestly pretty run down – Grieth's bandits had struck here too, and the Terrors roaming the nearby graveyards didn't help – but they had beds to spare and shelter from the cold, and that was more than enough for them.

Still, as she looked at the worn down homes, she can't help but compare it to the sturdy, well-furnished lodgings back in Ram. Back home.

She sighs and does her best to banish such thoughts.

The beat of wings draws her attention and she looks up to see Catria bringing her pegasus in for a landing.

“Hello.” the rider gives a nod of greeting as she dismounts.

“Hello to you too.” Faye nods as she looks over at the pegasus. “How was the patrol?”

“The fog's rolling in early, so we couldn't spot that much. There were a couple of Terrors wandering the trail, but we got rid of them so the village should be safe for the time being.”

“Oh?” At this, Faye takes a closer look and notices a shallow cut along Catria's right arm. “You're injured! Come on, let me see that.”

“It's really noth-” Catria cuts herself off and shakes her head before offering her arm for Faye to heal. When she's done, she begins walking her pegasus towards the village stables, and Faye follows along. She smiles at the younger girl. “With how much you've been looking after me, it's almost as if I've found my own personal nurse.”

“It's not like that!” Faye shakes her head. “I mean, I guess I've seen you get hurt a lot. But it's because you go out on patrol a lot more often than the others; you have the mobility, after all. And anyway your wounds are never anything serious. I know I definitely wouldn't be able to make it through so many battles without getting badly injured.” She's babbling a little, but the suggestion that she was attached to Catria had caught her by surprise and she isn't entirely sure how to react.

“I wasn't being serious,” Catria says and a half-smile appears before vanishing just as quickly. “But I _am_ grateful. It's true none of my injuries have been severe, but it's also true that none of the combat I've seen since joining up with you has been particularly trying. It's mostly cleaning out Terrors, and Revenants at that. Honestly,” she sighs and looks skyward, “my sister's been in just as many battles as me and hasn't received half as many injuries.”

Faye pauses. She'd detected a hint of... longing? Wistfulness? But she wasn't sure what any of that was about, and she's not sure she can say anything to help.

“W- well!” she says, more to break the silence than anything. “I'll be more than happy to keep healing you, so uh, I guess you don't need to worry!”

And Catria smiles again as she looks over at Faye.

“Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”

Catria enters the stables, probably to groom her pegasus, and Faye stands outside for a long moment, unsure of what to do.

Well, she should probably get a good night's sleep if nothing else. They would be entering the desert soon, and she had to be ready.

She absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent would not allow anything to stop her from protecting Celica.

(X)

_Sometimes I think the Mother waits until I make vows like that just to mock me,_ Faye thinks. She wants to ask for water, but instead all that comes out is a muffled groan.

She lies down in a cot, far away from the windows of the outpost in order to ensure the burning rays of the sun aren't allowed to torment her any longer. Unfortunately they can't do anything about the oppressive heat and every time Faye opens her mouth to take a breath (and she can't breathe through her nose, they're completely blocked) it feels like she's sucking on liquid fire.

She'd first noticed that something was most definitely _not right_ when they had begun storming the fortress that was Grieth's farthest outpost and the main entrance to the desert. The world had swam around her as she trudged through desert sands, refusing to stabilize itself even when she crouched or sat. And her muscles all over her body had ached, with a deep groaning pain that refused to let up no matter what she did.

Through some miracle she had managed to stay upright throughout the entire fight, and frankly it was only Leon's quick actions of covering her and shooting down the brigands that had (correctly) surmised an ailing cleric to be easy prey that she was still in one piece. The battle had scarcely been won when she had collapsed, feeling a burning pain behind her eyes and a building pressure in her throat.

And speaking of her throat, she twists, lifts her head from the cot just enough that she won't dirty herself, and coughs, a wet hacking one that ends with a smear of milky green phlegm on the floor beside her.

“Sandrat fever,” the newest member of their little group says as he looks down on her. He'd been living in the mountain village and he's built like a small mountain himself. Faye vaguely recalls that he joined the group to free his siblings from Grieth and her addled mind briefly wonders why the self-styled bandit king wants so many brothers and sisters. “It's not uncommon for newcomers to the desert to get hit with this, 'specially when they're used to cooler lands. She's from all the way south, yeah? Was probably only a matter of time then.”

“How could you be so reckless, Faye?” Celica leans over her, anger and worry written all over her face. “How could you try to take part in a battle in your condition?”

“To be fair to the girl,” Saber says as he leans against the wall. “Apparently the symptoms didn't start until after the fighting did. If she'd told you about it then and you ordered a retreat to cover her we'd all be sitting ducks for their archers. Deciding to soldier on was dumb as hell for _her_ , but it was the right call for the party.”

Celica's jaw works silently. She's obviously unhappy with Saber's logic but can't find fault with it and so she simply shakes her head and changes the subject.

“You know how to cure this, Atlas?” She turns to the mountain villager.

“Well, it's usually not fatal 'cept for the really young or the really old. But if you wanna help speed up the recovery you usually go gather a bunch of desert moonroses and boil 'em into tea for the patient to drink.”

“All right, that's what we'll do. Atlas, could you take... let's see, Boey and Kamui to go find those flowers you're talking about? The rest of us can search the fortress in the meantime.”

“We can't afford to linger here too long, lass,” Saber says. “I was against kicking the hornet's nest in the first place, but now that we're here, Grieth's got to know that something's gone wrong with this outpost. The longer we take to move the more time he's got to call in reinforcements from the mountains and shore up his defences.”

“Well we can't travel with her like this and we're certainly not leaving her behind!”

Faye listens to the bustle of talk all around her and closes her eyes. A part of her feels like she should be guilty that she's dragging Celica down like this but the vast majority of her is simply very uncomfortable and very unhappy and would dearly like for the noise to go away so she can go to sleep.

Celica must have noticed Faye's distress because a cool hand touches her forehead.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. Just get some rest, okay? We'll have that moonrose tea ready for you in no time.”

The hand is soft and gentle, and reminds her of days as a little girl when her mother would hold her hand and sing soft lullabies just before bedtime. Faye breathes out once more, leans her head to the side, and rests.

(X)

_scrrch, scrrch_

Faye blinks. Her head feels heavy.

_scrrch, scrrch scrrch_

She shifts her gaze to outside the window and sees that it's late evening. Had she slept through the entire afternoon?

_scrrch_

She feels like she should sit up in the bed, but her body stubbornly refuses to cooperate and she settles on craning her neck so that she can look around the room and see what's making that weird scratching sound.

The room she's in is empty – she vaguely remembers Celica mentioning something about having them search the fortress so she supposes that's where everyone is.

Well, empty except for the nearby desk. She can see the figure of Genny hunched over, writing something.

_scrrch scrrch_

So that's the mystery of the noise solved. Just what is she writing though? A letter back home?

_scrrch_

The scratching noise comes to a stop.

“No... it's not working,” Genny's voice is soft, but she obviously still thinks Faye is fast asleep and she's speaking freely to what she presumes is an audience of none. “The way they meet is all wrong, I need to set this up better or it'll just seem like him saving her comes out of nowhere.”

Faye's confusion only grows.

“Ooh, I know! She could pay a visit to his home village first! Yeah, that's kind of like what Celica did, right? Only this time she actually gets to meet him and doesn't realize who he is at first so they don't get along so well...”

“Genny...” Faye croaks out. “What are you doing?”

Genny whirls around so fast Faye is surprised she doesn't get whiplash. A thick, leatherbound book in her hands is slammed shut, and Genny is now turning as red as her hair.

“Y – you're awake!” she says. It's stating the obvious, and so Faye nods. Her head still hurts, but by now it's a dull throb that she can bear with and so she sits up in her bed and leans against the wall.

“Yes I am.” she confirms as she flexes her fingers. “So, uh... is that a book? Were you reading out loud or something?” It didn't sound like it though. More like she wasn't sure where the plot was going?

“Oh, you heard...?” Genny trails off and glances down at the book. “I... well...”

“I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I was just a little curious.”

“No, it's...” she takes a deep breath. “I... well, I was writing.”

“Writing?”

“Yes, I mean...” Genny shrugs, a helpless expression on her face. “Do you have any books you like, Faye?”

“Books I like? Well...” Faye frowns. “Back in Ram we didn't have many books, but when I was little Kliff had this pretty thick book of fairy tales that had been collected from all over Valentia. Oh, yeah! And one time when Gray went to the town he came back with a book of adventure stories. I remember one where a brave knight had to ride out to slay a dragon or something like that.”

“Right, well, the thing about books like that is that someone had to write them, correct?” Genny says with a firm nod. Faye supposes that's true, but she's also not quite sure where Genny is going with this.

“So that's what I want to do too!” she pats the book in her hand once. “I want to write a story about a grand adventure that anyone can enjoy! A story of bravery, revenge, fighting, miracles, true love... that sort of thing.”

“Oh... that sounds like a noble goal.” Faye tries to offer an encouraging smile. She's not sure if that's really her thing, but if that's what Genny enjoys, then more power to her.

“Yes, but right now I've really hit a bit of a snag,” Genny sighs as she looks down at the book. Then she looks up at Faye. And then back the book again. “Say, Faye?”

“... Yes?”

“Do you think you could help me with this? Just a little?”

Faye blinks. “Help you? I'm not a writer by any stretch of the word.”

“No, no, no, you don't need to do that. It's just... well, I guess I could use a second opinion.” Genny lays the book flat on the table.

“Well, if it's just that, then sure, why not?” It's not like she has anything better to do than to sit here and recover from her fever. And the idea of simply going back to sleep so soon after she's awoken isn't that appealing.

“Okay then! What do you think would make a good love interest for a princess?”

“A... love interest?”

“Yeah, I mean, like, what traits would you give someone if you were writing an ideal person you'd fall in love with?”

It's not at all difficult for her to conjure up an image of _her_ ideal person, and as she sinks lower into her bed she decides that offering her several vague details – not enough to identify him, of course – wouldn't be too bad.

“Sea-green eyes,” she murmurs, half to herself. “So calm and deep, like a pool in a forest. You could lose yourself in them all day.”

“Wow, that's... pretty descriptive,” Genny says before she grabs her pen. “I should probably note this down.”

“He's powerful, of course,” Faye nods to herself as she starts thinking of personality traits. “He's been training all his life – so he can protect those close to him. But for all his strength, he's gentle and caring too. He always makes time in the day to see his friends, and he's always considerate of their wants and needs.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh...” Genny's head is bent and she's scribbling in her book as fast as she can.

“And... sometimes when you look at him you can feel the weight of destiny on his shoulders.” Faye bites her lip as she feels her heart ache, but it's the truth. “Like, he tries to be a dutiful grandson to the person who raised him, but anyone who pays attention can tell that he's meant for bigger and better things.”

_And that one day, he'll outgrow the little village that was his home._

“Ooh, that's perfect!” Genny exclaims. “And then, it'll all make sense when she discovers that he's the lost prince!”

“What? But Alm isn't a prince!” The words are out of her mouth before she fully registers what she's saying.

“... Who's Alm?” Genny's pen had been that had been furiously dashing across the page a moment ago has now stilled and she's now looking at Faye with a confused expression on her face. “That name actually... sounds kind of familiar, come to think of it.”

Faye shakes her head and feels a heat rising from her neck that spreads up to her cheeks. “Never mind. I... uh, I feel tired. Let's call it day, okay?”

Before Genny can give a hesitant nod of affirmation, Faye has already buried her face into the pillow.

(X)

Faye hasn't fully recovered yet, but she's able to sit up and pay attention and so she decides to attend the conference they're holding in what passes for the fortress' war room about the next step they'll take.

“Okay, so there are two main paths that'll take you to Grieth's citadel,” the speaker is a man they found in the dungeons of the place. Apparently he had been trying to play the hero and gotten in over his head, but he knows the lay of the land and apparently he's pretty handy with a sword himself. He points to the map that's been spread out over the table. “The southern path and the northern path here. Knowing Grieth he'll have sent his two best sellswords to guard both routes.”

“You know anything about his best men then?”

“Well there's the girl, Sonya. She's a magic user like the priestess here, but the real scary part is that apparently she keeps a company of witches in tow.” Faye notes that Celica's frown deepens at the mention of witches, although the specifics of the term are foreign to her. “And then the other's the swordfighter Deen. He's supposed to be one of the best there is with a blade, and they say his sword always seems to find your weak spot no matter how you try to hide it.”

“Deen,” Saber snorts the name with disgust. “He never did care for much beyond the weight of his client's purse but I thought even he wouldn't want to associate with the likes of Grieth.”

“It's closer to truth than you know.” Jesse's smile is confident. “Apparently they both actually can't stand Grieth. But with him gathering all the desert forces under his banner it's working for him or nobody at all in eastern Zofia.”

“... And that may be our chance,” Saber says after a moment's consideration. “Deen's a right terror on the field, lass. If this Sonya is anywhere as good as he is, then I definitely don't want to be facing both of them at once.”

“But if they don't actually care about Grieth, then they won't do anything beyond the bare minimum that gets them paid,” Kamui, who's been leaning by the wall with arms folded, nods as he speaks. “So they won't bother to chase us down if we don't cross paths with them.”

“So, we pick a path and hope for the best?”

Celica's eyes narrow as she studies the map. Finally, she nods.

“We'll go north,” she says, her voice soft but determined. “The route is shorter, and speed is crucial.”

Faye clutches her rod, and silently offers a prayer to Mila to watch over them for the battle ahead.

(X)

They've been marching for several hours, and Faye is considering draining the last drop in her waterskin when she catches a flash of white from the sky and the elder pegasus rider – Palla – draws close to them.

“Enemy encampment up ahead,” she reports to Celica. “A small army of swordsmen.”

“So it's Deen then.” For all his earlier complaints, Saber now has a predatory grin on his face. “Well, better the devil you know.”

Celica turns back to look at Faye. “Faye... are you sure you're up to this?”

Faye nods and steels her resolve. “That tea Atlas talked about really did the trick. I'm fully recovered, Celica. I won't let you down again.”

_I'll fight if I have to. I'll kill if I have to. That's what I'm here for._

Celica takes one last look over the assembled group, and she gives a nod of her own. “All right, let's go.”

They march continues, but at a faster pace now, and with the knowledge that battle is inevitable. Faye bites her lip once and then forces herself to stop doing that.

Soon, the assembled soldiers come into view. And standing in front of them is a man clad in maroon armour and with dark purple hair.

There are no words exchanged. Faye knows that retreat is not an option anyway, and she tightens the grip on her rod.

Slowly, with deliberate calm, the man standing opposite them draws his blade. In this distance, Faye can make out that the edge is strangely angled and not like the straighter blades that their own swordsmen bear.

Celica steps forward.

“We've no quarrel with you,” she speaks, and her voice projects far beyond what should be possible. Faye narrows her eyes, and she can pick up wisps of a spell that's amplifying the volume of her speech. “Our only target is Grieth. Please, let us pass. No blood needs to be spilled today.”

There's a silence for a long moment, and then the man – Deen, she supposes – smirks and shakes his head once.

He swings the sword up in a sort of saluting motion, and it's clearly a signal of some sort because the entire enemy army lets out a deafening war cry as they begin to charge.

“Did you really expect otherwise?” Faye has time to hear Saber's resigned mutter before the two lines clash.

Deen's swordfighters are skilled. In seconds their group is on the defensive. But somehow, they manage to hold. Faye sees Boey hurling fire as fast as he can, Mae calling down bolts of lightning from the heavens, and together they're able to cover and protect Celica from the advancing soldiers.

She sees Valbar staggering – a spear stabbed through a seam in between metal plates. The horserider who had managed the deed snarls in triumph – and then he's suddenly unseated and tossed like a sack of hay onto the burning sands as Palla swoops down from the sky and slashes at him with her spear. Rushing over, Faye is able to heal the wound and the knight nods his thanks before resuming his defiant charge into the enemy ranks.

She catches sight of Catria, moving so swiftly through the air it looks as if she's one with the wind itself. The pegasus knight is the target of every archer in the vicinity – likely she knew that would always be the case, but her deft movements leave arrows flying wildly off the mark – and, Faye realizes after a moment, in directions away from the main body of their group. As Faye watches, she – impossibly! – moves even faster, darting down, impaling an archer and flying away again almost too fast for the eye to follow.

And she sees Saber and Jesse working in tandem to fight Deen, the two of them moving as if they share a mind, forcing him back and preventing him from going on the offensive. Faye swallows and feels a rush of triumph. They're winning, they can _do_ this-!

And suddenly she stumbles. _What?_ The air... feels wrong. _Tastes_ wrong. She feels a trembling go through her body that she knows has nothing to do with her illness. Quickly, she casts a glance over the rest of her group. Most are still fighting hard, but... Boey and Mae, eyes wide and glancing around for an unseen threat. Genny, clutching her own staff and doubled over, one hand pressed to her chest. Celica, breaking off from a melee, panting heavily and her face a confused frown.

_The other magic users. They can all tell something's wrong too._

And then, from behind them, the world is torn apart.

Or rather, a rift appears in the air, distorting and rippling the ground around them, and Faye is forced to shield her eyes from the intense brightness.

When the light fades, she finds herself gazing down at... a score of women.

Only not women. As Faye looks at them, she feels her trembling getting worse.

_Oh merciful Mother... be with us now in this hour of our need..._

Wrong, wrong, _wrong **wrong WRONG**_. Something about the women – just looking at them seems to make her feel nauseous, makes her want to turn and run. The way they move, the way they look, the aura they generate...

Like a dark shadow that persisted despite being illuminated by the sun, the women seemed to suck in the light and the _spirit_ around them, creating a black abyss where a _person_ should have been.

Instinctively, Faye stumbles backward, away from the... women. The... _creatures._

“The hell took you so long?” She hears an irritated yell from the distance and realizes it comes from Deen.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” The one woman of the newly arrived group that does not exude _**wrongness**_ tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder. Sonya, Faye realizes from somewhere deep inside her. This is Sonya. “Perhaps you'd like to be the one to prepare a spell capable of teleporting an entire army the next time.”

“Hmph. Let's just finish this.”

And suddenly, tearing her eyes away from the women, Faye realizes they're even more badly outnumbered – and surrounded.

And she feels the icy grip of panicked despair clawing at her gut.

Suddenly a flash of light from the corner of her eye – and one of the _**women** _ is standing directly in front of her, an arm extended towards her and the orange glow of a fire spell already flaring in her palm.

Instinct takes over. There's no time to think of casting a spell – next time, she knows to prepare them beforehand and to be ready to fire it at a moment's notice, but not today – and forcing her body to cooperate, forcing it past the desire to move _away_ from the dark shape that resembles a person in front of her, she lower her head and rams her shoulder into the thing.

She is a girl, but she is stronger than she looks and she has caught the creature by surprise. She slams into it, knocking it down, and the fire spell goes wide. It falls onto the burning sand and Faye jumps on top of it, unwilling to give it time to recover.

_Kill. Or be killed._

She reaches for her belt, and then her knife is in her hands. She raises it, barely a moment of hesitation, and then she plunges it deep into the woman's torso.

She'd half expected it to be a construct of some kind, an automaton or golem because otherwise _how could it be so humanlike and yet so unlike a human at the same time?!_ But it bleeds, a spurt of dark blood shooting out with enough force to cover her robe and to spray across her face. And as Faye hastily scrambles back, the woman _the creature the_ _ **thing**_ writhes and convulses before it vanishes entirely with what sounds like an agonised scream.

_Focus._ Faye swings around once more, lets her gaze sweep the battlefield. What had once been their group's attempt to maintain a defensive formation against the onslaught has degenerated into a chaotic brawl. The women... their ability to vanish and reappear wherever they please has thrown the lines into disarray, and everyone has to anticipate attacks from all sides.

She sees Leon, his bow a charred ruin and tossed aside, fighting in melee with a pair of long knives. Blood coats the left side of his face, and he's fighting like a man possessed. A moment later she realizes he's defending Valbar, who's now slumped over on his knees, his armour bearing a smoking hole right in the middle of his chest. A lightning spell of uncanny accuracy.

She starts to run over, starts to create a healing spell to soothe Valbar and mend his wounds, but then she sees Atlas out of the corner of his eye. His weapon has been lost in the chaos, and now he's relying on nothing more than his muscles to fight. As she watches, he throws a soldier onto the ground and before the stunned man can recover, he's picked up a rock and smashed it down onto the centre of his enemy's chest. The man's armour buckles under the force of the blow and she hears a scream. She can't tell if it's Atlas' or the soldier's.

And then, over the dull roar around her, she hears Genny, her voice rising above the din of battle, with an eerie cadence to it that sounds so unlike the gentle cleric she had spoke with a day prior.

“ _I RELEASE THE UNBROKEN SEAL AND CALL UPON YOU IN OUR HOUR OF NEED. YOU, WHO SWORE YOUR SERVICE TO THE EARTH MOTHER FOR ALL ETERNITY, HEED US NOW! YOUR BODIES HAVE BEEN REDUCED TO DUST, BUT YOUR SPIRITS SHINE ETERNAL. NOW, HONOUR YOUR OATHS AND HEAR MY COMMAND **!** **ANCIENT ONES, COME FORTH!**_ ”

And before Faye's stunned eyes, a blue glow suffuses the area, and as if plucked from the air around them, spectral beings step into existence. Their shapes are that of soldiers and as she watches, they move into formation, lances flashing through the air and driving back the swordsmen and the women both.

And Faye sees Genny taking a stumbling step backwards before collapsing onto the ground.

“Genny!” she rushes over to the cleric's side, checks to see if she's still breathing.

“Well...” Genny's voice is soft. “Always told me... never use it... except... in an emergency. This counts... don't you think?”

“We can worry about that later,” Faye moves her hand over her body, checking for a wound. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Genny shakes her head and gasps for breath. “A spell like that... always takes... a lot out of you... But... worth it.”

Faye looks up and sees that the tide is turning. Genny's otherwordly reinforcements have evened the odds and slowly, the enemy are being driven back.

_That's good, isn't it?_ Faye frowns. If they could hold out a bit longer, they'd win. Just a bit longer...

And then she sees it.

Celica, isolated from the rest of their group. Boey and Mae are trying to fight their way to her but a trio of the woman-creatures are blocking their path. Saber's rushing towards her too, but he's too far away.

Celica is alone. And facing both Sonya and Deen.

As Faye watches, Sonya gestures, and blades of howling wind form in front of her, tearing towards Celica. She dodges, barely – right into the path of Deen's sword.

Celica parries – again, barely. The force of the blow still sends her stumbling back. She raises her hand, fires a blast of light from it – and Deen has already jumped out of the way.

It's a dance, always keeping one step away from the enemy, always on the knife edge of disaster, and it can't last. As Faye watches, Sonya changes tactics, hurls her next blast of wind at the ground in front of Celica.

Sand whips through the air in a wild frenzy, and Celica instinctively screws her eyes shut. And then Deen is there as well, and as Faye catches sight of the blade flashing in the sun, she knows.

She _knows_.

This is the strike that killed Celica in the vision she saw.

No.

_**No.** _

This can't happen.

She can't _let_ this happen.

Both hands clutch her staff.

She closes her eyes.

Focus. _Focus._

_The Mother's blessings manifest through the earth..._

The ground thrums under her feet. A rippling pool that spreads further and further, spreading her consciousness, her awareness, through the vastness of the desert around her.

She focuses, and the sensation of oneness fills her body.

_We are as the roots of a tree..._

She can feel it. She can feel the presence of her allies, still engaged in pitched battle around her.

She can feel the emptiness, the wrongness emanating from the women who still dot the battlefield.

And she can feel Celica's presence. Faye knows, without looking, exactly where she is.

And she knows what to do.

_No matter how far we spread, we are always connected._

Her staff slams onto the sandy ground.

_**Rescue.** _

That single, overriding thought, the act of will to save Celica, to _rescue_ Celica, manifests in a burst of magic that flows through the ground towards her target. As Faye opens her eyes, she sees Celica glow white – and vanish.

Deen's sword cuts empty air.

And then Celica appears in front of her, still stumbling backwards and she bowls into Faye, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Faye feels the burning sand sear the skin of her palms, feels the weight of Celica pressing down on her body, hot sweaty and confused, and it's the most _perfect_ feeling she's ever felt in her life and she suddenly realizes she's crying and laughing at the same time, hot tears running down the sides of her face as her body shakes with delight.

And in the distance, she sees Saber reach Deen. He's disoriented by the sudden disappearance of his target, and Saber's slash strikes true, sending him spinning to the earth and splashing another stain of dark blood onto the ground.

She watches as Deen clambers to his knees, the shoulder of his sword arm torn and bleeding. Sonya moves to cover him, arms outstretched in preparation to cast, but the look in her eyes is calculating.

“We're leaving,” she says after a moment. “The battle's lost. No point sticking around to become vulture food.”

Deen doesn't argue and she snaps her fingers, vanishing in a blaze of light – along with the few remaining soldiers on their side.

There's no victory cry, no celebration. Everyone is too exhausted, too badly wounded, or both.

Gradually Faye becomes aware that Celica's weight is still on her, and she hasn't moved, as if confused by what has just transpired.

“Faye, what just... what did you do?”

Faye tries to answer but suddenly it feels like all the strength has left her body and she falls back onto the sand, closing her eyes and focusing on breathing. There'll be time enough to explain later.

_Genny was right,_ she thinks. _These spells really do take a whole lot out of you._

* * *

**Chapter End**

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**Author's Notes:**

Nothing much to say this time. Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you enjoy it and I would greatly appreciate comments and reviews!


	5. When She Admitted That She Loved Alm

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The sun is scorching and relentless in its blazing assault as Faye crouches over Leon, continuing her work. Her hands tremble with exhaustion as energy leaves her body, transforming into a healing light that covers Leon's wounds and closes them with gratifying alacrity.

After a moment she pauses, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Her breath rasps harsh in her throat, there's a dull headache pounding at the back of her skull, and her limbs feel like they're made of frayed straw instead of muscle and bone. Her hair cascades down her shoulders and dimly she realizes that at some point one of her braids had gotten undone. She ignores it and continues working. There'll be time enough to fix it later.

“How do you feel?

Leon pulls himself into a sitting position, turns away from Faye for a moment, and spits out a gobbet of blood onto the sand.

“Fine.” He pauses to take a ragged breath. “How's Valbar?”

She looks over to the side where Celica and Genny are working together to tend to the fallen knight's wounds. The lightning bolt to his chest was probably the most severe wound any of them had received during the battle and Valbar is now lying spreadeagled on the desert floor, his breathing laboured and painful. Celica's expression is serious but not panicked and so Faye nods. “He'll be fine. I think.”

This statement is apparently not convincing enough for Leon and he begins to struggle to his feet. Faye tries to help him, but he waves her off with a gesture and a shake of his head before standing and stumbling in the direction of his friend.

She sighs, clutches her rod, and makes to stand and find the next person to treat. Then her legs wobble under her and she leans heavily on her staff, gasping for air and trying to wait for the wave of dizziness to pass.

“Whoa there.” She hears Catria's voice and the rider is at her side, offering her an arm in support. Catria had actually received relatively little in the way of wounds – a discoloured bruise mottles her shoulder and there are a few shallow cuts along her body, but Valentian soldiers aren't used to fighting pegasi or their riders and that had worked in her favour for this battle. Faye nods her thanks and lets her weary gaze sweep over the battlefield.

After several long moments of stunned silence that they had _won_ , the party had begun to gather together, not only to take stock of what the fight had cost them but also to make it marginally easier for their healers to treat them together in one place.

“Who else?” Faye asks. It's not an articulate statement but between her headache and exhaustion she's subconsciously cut down everything to the bare minimum so as to not exert any more effort than she absolutely has to.

“Jesse and my sister both need healing. Nothing too serious; they're coming over now.”

“Got it.” She turns towards them as they approach and staggers, nearly falling on her face. A second later, she feels Catria's hand on her shoulders, helping to hold her up.

“Faye...” And Faye can tell Catria wants to say more, wants to tell her to take it easy, but she doesn't. It wouldn't make sense anyway. No matter how exhausted she is, the fact is that they need her to cure them and she can't just lie down and pretend their injuries will go away.

She stands still for several more seconds, fighting for air and trying to regain just a little bit more strength as Jesse comes up to her. And then, with a weary nod, she raises her hands and gets to work.

(X)

The fort that Deen's men had been camping out in while waiting for their arrival is deserted by the time they make their way to it. Just as well. Right now Faye doesn't feel up to properly untying the laces on her boots, never mind getting into another fight.

She spots several large barrels of water standing near the entrance and lurches towards it, forcing stiff unresponsive limbs into action. Not bothering with her waterskin or the mugs she sees nearby, she simply dunks her head into the nearest opened barrel and slurps the water up.

It's completely undignified and she briefly thinks of what Gray and Tobin would say if they saw her like this but she's too tired and too damn _thirsty_ to care.

Refreshed by her drink, she lifts her now-dripping face up from the barrel and sees Saber looking down at her with something like amusement in his eyes as he slowly drinks from a cup. He looks a complete mess too – sweat and dried blood mixing and caked together across his face, but the look in his face tells her that it's not the first time he's been in a situation like this and he's not so far gone to act the way she would.

She simply stares at him, silently daring him to judge her. He doesn't, at least not beyond a slight smirk that quirks the corners of his lips. Reaching over to grab another mug, he fills it and passes it to her so she can drink properly. After a moment, she accepts the mug and brings it to her lips.

“Good work out there, girl,” he says with an approving nod. “The battle was tough on all of us, but you healer-types still had to keep working even after the killing stopped. So go get some rest after this. You earned it. The rest of us will keep watch for now.” Slightly gratified by his statement, she stands and heads over to where Celica and her friends are standing. Genny looks dead on her feet and one look at Celica tells Faye that she's just as drained, but somehow the priestess still keeps her poise as she moves.

“Come on, Faye,” Celica says and extends an inviting hand. “I don't know about you, but I'm about ready to find a bed and collapse onto it.”

Faye smiles and follows after her. “That sounds wonderful.”

(X)

By the time Faye wakes up, realizes she is now starving and grabs a quick dinner, the sun has set and the halls of the fortress are cold and dark. She still isn't used to how quickly a land so hot in the daytime can turn so cold when the sun sets, and she finds herself throwing an extra cape over her shoulders when she returns to the room she shares with Genny.

Celica is currently engaged in a meeting with the others, to talk about what they can expect when they storm Grieth's fortress the day after tomorrow. From the voices that had floated out of the room as she walked past, they're in some disagreement over whether to try a frontal assault or to attempt a stealthy approach. Faye knows she won't be able to contribute much to the discussion in any case and so she had decided to leave them to it.

Lighting a candle, she settles herself down on the desk and finds herself staring at the empty sheet of paper in front of her. The plain emptiness on it stares back.

Hesitantly, she picks up her pen before continuing to stare at the paper. She wants to write back to her family, let them know that she's still all right, but... what else is there to talk about? She remembers the last letter she'd sent, back when she was still heading towards Zofia castle. Back then she'd talked to her parents about how she thought Alm was doing, and whether or not he'd really was prepared to reclaim the Castle after all.

But now, she'd been away from Alm for so long, and out here in Eastern Zofia there is precious little news about how the Deliverance is doing as a whole, never mind Alm specifically. And she just isn't sure what to write.

“Oh, are you writing too?”

The quiet voice startles her out of her reverie and she turns to see Genny pad into the room. In the faint traces of moonlight and the candle, she can see a smile on her face and Faye gives a brief smile back in response.

“No. Well, not like your books,” Faye says as she turns back to stare at the paper. The only thing she'd managed to pen down in the past fifteen minutes is her greeting and her well wishes. She sighs and leans back in her chair. “I'm writing a letter to my folks back home. Or trying to, at least.”

“Writer's block, you mean?” Genny settles herself on her bed and pulls open her pack, obviously looking for something.

“No, it's just... I don't have anything to say. It'd feel so weird to just send a single sheet of paper with a merchant saying 'I'm doing well!', wouldn't it?”

“Well... if you just want to keep them updated, then can't you tell them about yourself?”

“About myself? But...” Faye shrugs. “There's nothing to write about.”

“Nothing?” At this Genny stops rummaging around her pack and looks up. “When was the last time you wrote back to your parents?”

“About three weeks ago. Just before we reached Zofia Castle.” After that, in between training sessions with Celica and the need to keep on the move, she hadn't really had the chance to write much. Come to think of it, she likely wouldn't be able to send the letter back immediately even if she wrote it now...

“Well, did you tell them about you becoming a cleric?”

“Yeah, I did.” She shrugs and looks down at the paper. “But that's not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things, is it? I don't think they'd want to read about my training either...”

“Of course they would!” Genny says, and without looking she can tell the younger girl is frowning. “They don't just want to know you're not injured or something. They want to know about _you_! How you feel, what you think, what you're worried about. What's happened to you. That's what writing is _for!_ Being able to communicate all that and more is why writing is so powerful!”

It's the longest and most passionately that Faye's ever heard Genny speak about something, and she lifts her head to look at her in surprise.

Genny seems to realize her outburst after her moment, and her cheeks darken visibly in the gloom of the bedchamber. “Sorry,” her voice is sheepish, “I just... really think writing is really important, and a really good way to communicate.”

“It's no problem,” Faye says before returning to her sheet of paper. “But... even in that case, I've done nothing special as a cleric so far. Not like you, being able to summon up a ghost soldiers or Celica having mastered so many different spells.”

“Nothing spe-” Genny blinks. “Faye... do you know what you did this morning is almost unheard of?”

“What I did?”

“The Rescue spell,” Genny clarifies. “Lots of people can use magic to send someone farther away. But bringing them closer to you... that requires you to lock onto their spiritual signature strongly enough that you can draw them to you through the ether. And that's really really hard.”

“It – it is?” She hadn't been thinking about whether or not it was difficult, to be honest. Her only thought had been overwhelming relief and joy and having been able to save Celica.

“And you did it without any formal training in the spell!” Genny's voice grows quieter. “To be honest... I'm actually a little jealous.”

“Wait – huh? Jealous? Of me?” Faye turns in her chair to face her, her letter forgotten for now. “But – but why?”

“I guess you wouldn't know. I mean, you don't really have a point of comparison. But I've worked really, really hard in the Priory for a very long time. And I've only been able to learn a few advanced spells – mostly for fighting Terrors. But you just starting training a month and a half ago and you've already mastered at least one high-level spell! That's amazing!”

“O – oh...” Faye trails off, unsure of what to say or how to feel. “I... I mean...”

“You shouldn't feel bad about it or anything,” Genny laughs. “I mean, if the Mother has blessed you with talent, then you're making good use of it, right?”

“Yes, I guess so...” Faye stares down at the ground for a while, feeling a strange sense of elation build in her chest. “Thanks for the encouragement, Genny.”

“Any time. That's what friends are for, right?”

_Friends?_

Faye blinks, but the question that springs up in her mind fails to make its way to her mouth before Genny yawns and says she is turning in for the night.

As the younger girl moves away to change into her nightclothes, Faye looks down at the piece of paper still lying on her desk. With a sigh, she folds it up and puts it away.

There'll be time enough to write later.

(X)

They had decided on a frontal assault after all. After managing to send off both Deen and Sonya, it was likely that Grieth's fortress itself was badly undermanned, and so they had a chance to run in and take care of him before he could call in reinforcements.

Or at least that was how Celica had explained it to them when they had gathered for a briefing. Faye doesn't know that much about strategy and logistics when it comes to commanding armies, but she trusts Celica's abilities and decisions.

And as they storm the bastion, Faye can't shake the feeling that it _is_ easer than she expected. There are plenty of guards, true, but... well, not up to the strength of the men they had fought a couple days ago. Many of the guards are demoralized and throw down their weapons quickly once it becomes clear that they're at a disadvantage.

Still, she's seen firsthand how the tides can turn at a moment's notice and so she remains alert as they split up to cover more ground and move through the hallways of the place, trying to keep an eye out for an ambush or trap.

Even then she has to admit to being stunned when she rounds the corner and runs into a walking skeleton.

 _A Terror? Here? But how-_ The creature is already leaping at her and she sidesteps it, letting it rush past in a noisy clatter of bones. Even as the bonewalker whirls around she's already raised her staff, and she releases the energy stored within.

The power of the Nosferatu spell sends the skeleton reeling back, and Faye feels some of her exhaustion and aches in her body fade away. Energy is energy, she supposes, even when coming from an undead monstrosity. Even as the skeleton tries to rally for another charge, Kamui leaps at it from behind, and brings his blade crashing down. It collapses into a shapeless heap of bones and the flame burning in its skull goes out.

A nod of mutual thanks is all they have time for before three more of the creatures crash through a doorway at the far end of the room and begin advancing on them.

“Best get behind me.” Kamui's voice is calm, and a moment later Valbar and Leon are there to provide aid to the mercenary. Leon's arrows are nearly useless against the skeletons, but between the four of them it isn't long before they've cleared the room of any opposition, human or otherwise.

“Why would Terrors be here?” Fayes murmurs as she stares down at the scattered bones. She isn't really expecting an answer, but Leon responds anyway.

“Cantors. Priests of the Duma Faithful can learn how to call up Terrors to serve them. No doubt Grieth's deep pockets have convinced a few men of the cloth to aid his noble cause.” The sarcasm is Leon's voice is thick.

Faye suppresses a shudder at the thought of having anything in common with someone who calls forth the dead to do thier bidding and then falls into formation behind the others as they continue moving deeper into the fortress.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes that it really has become easier for her as time has gone by. She now has a basic idea of what everyone in the party will try to do and where they'll be most of the time. One of her allies falls back, and she's ready with a healing spell to soothe his wound. She catches sight of an archer attempting to flank them and hurls a spell his way. She's become more experienced, more sure of herself in combat, without even realizing it.

She's not sure she should be happy about that, though.

Before long they're before the central chamber, and the groups that had split up are reunited. Celica leads the charge, blasting down the door with a burst of light before leaping into the room.

The men inside the room have already started moving, bringing blades and spears to bear. At the far end of the room, she sees a man clothed in robes of deep purple. Even as she watches, he raises his hands, and more skeletal soldiers spring up as if from the ground.

And seated upon a throne, a man with an eyepatch, glaring down at them.

“Are you the one they call Grieth?" Celica demands as she strides forward. One man charges at her – she dodges his sword strike and sends a bolt of flame into his leg. The man lets out a howl of pain and crumples to the ground.

“And if I am?”

“Your reign of terror is over. Stand down. No more lives need to be lost today.”

The bandit king's lips pull back into a strange mix of a smile and a snarl.

“Stand down? _Stand down?_ Oh, your highness, you missed your calling in life as a jester. My kingdom may meet its end today, but if that happens, I'm dragging you all TO HELL WITH ME!”

 _Wait, 'your highness'? What does he-_ Suddenly she realizes that he's drawn a blade and is charging straight at their group, his face contorted in fury.

She moves behind Celica, ready to provide support. Celica has broken into a run as well, charging straight at Grieth. Two skeletal warriors move to block her way – the first is blown apart by a blast of lightning from Mae, and Saber tackles the second one, dueling it for a moment before swiping its head clean off.

And then Celica and Grieth have met and their blades ring with the clash of steel against steel. Celica has her spells to give her an edge, but Grieth's agility seems almost inhuman – he's leaping and striking at her from all angles, drawing blood as Celica is forced to try to anticipate the direction and angle his next attack will come from.

Faye raises her staff and sends a wave of healing energy at Celica. Even at this distance, she can see the light cover her wounds, and suddenly Celica is moving faster again, unburdened by the pain of shallow cuts and glancing blows that had marked her body.

“Hrrr!” Angered by the support Celica is receiving, Grieth swings down with both hands, aiming for a heavier blow – but Celica has anticipated the move and parries. It's enough, just enough to divert the course of the blade. With her free hand she gathers energy for a spell – and hurls it at point blank range.

The lightning bolt slams into Grieth's chest and he's sent flying back. The room suddenly falls silent. Even the cantor freezes, halfway through summoning yet another set of bonewalkers to waylay them.

Grieth's body slumps to the floor, smoke rising from it. Celica takes a deep breath and turns to face the rest of his men.

“The men who hired you is dead,” she says, her voice ringing across the chamber. “I give you all a choice. Leave now, or -”

Movement. Faye's eyes widen in alarm as she sees Grieth rise up and dash at Celica, gleaming blade raised once more. A bestial roar of rage parts his lips.

Celica whirls, eyes wide, and she's already bringing her sword up, but then -

A dark shape drops from the ceiling right onto Grieth, catching him midcharge. There's the sound of metal tearing flesh and suddenly Grieth is collapsed on the floor once more, blood pooling out from the hole in his chest.

“You were careless, little one,” Deen says without looking up at Celica. “Grieth's got ways to protect himself against magic like yours. Don't think you win just because you draw first blood.”

“Deen...” Grieth coughs, and more dark blood stains the floor. “You... traitorous... bas...”

“You knew you had this coming.” Deen's voice is cold. He waits a long moment and then, satisfied that the body on the floor is a corpse, he stands and faces the crowd. “You heard the lady. Leave, and live. Stay, and die. What's it going to be?”

“Not you, though. _You_ don't get to choose.” A new voice pierces the chamber, and Faye feels the same disturbance in the air she's come to realize is a teleportation spell. Sonya's now standing in front of the cantor, her eyes narrowed in what Faye realizes is a deep, seething hatred.

“You-” the man's cry goes unfinished as Sonya flicks her wrist. Blades of wind tear through the air, shredding through the Duma priest. He's dead before he hits the ground.

And that's it. The men that can do so turn and flee, yowling and scrambling for the exit. Faye barely pays them any mind. She and all the others are more concerned with what the two mercenaries they fought before are now doing here.

The two sides regard each other for a long moment. And then Deen sighs and turns away to sheathe his blade.

“So, you win. The castle is now yours. What are you going to do?”

“... I could ask the same of you.” Celica lowers her sword. “You just killed your employer. What do you plan to do now?”

Deen doesn't reply immediately, and Faye gets the sense that it's because he's not sure either. After a moment, he shrugs.

“You were willing to take on Grieth with just a dozen men under you. You've got stones, little one.” A smile parts the man's face. “I like leaders with stones. So, what say I throw in with you?”

“You haven't changed a damn bit,” Saber says, but Celica holds up a hand to request silence. Her expression is guarded, but Faye can tell she's considering Deen's offer.

“And you?” She turns to ask Sonya.

“Well, I've nowhere else to go for now, and you seem a more interesting person than most. If there's room for one more, I wouldn't mind tagging along.”

Celica takes a deep breath. “You... just killed your former employer. I don't think I can make a decision straight away. I won't treat you as an enemy right now, so you're free to remain in this citadel as well if you want. But I can't give you an answer yet.”

“Fair enough.” There's an amused lilt to Sonya's voice, but Deen gives a shrug and turns away.

Faye can't shake the feeling that this is a bad idea, somehow, but... She trusts Celica's decision.

She has to.

(X)

“Catria! Palla! Oh, I can't believe it's you!”

“Est!” She hears Catria's glad shout and suddenly the older woman is running forward towards a dungeon cell. Faye sees a girl inside, a redhead, and as the cell door is thrown open, she's run forward and thrown herself into Catria's arms.

“Est, oh Est! You're safe!” Palla is now by the girl's side too, and the three of them are squeezing against each other in a group hug, holding on to each other like they never want to let go.

It's not difficult to guess that this is the sister that Palla and Catria were looking for, and Faye can only smile at their reunion.

“I was...” She hears the redhead – Est – sniffling as she speaks. “I was so scared! But I knew... I always knew you would come for me!”

“That's what sisters are for.” Catria laughs. “But you need to learn to keep it together, Est! Come on, pull yourself together! You're not a kid anymore.”

“Wha – hey! I get kidnapped and dragged halfway across the ocean to a totally different continent, and I'm not even allowed to cry? Can't I just be the kid sister for once?”

“But it's never just for once! That's the whole problem!”

Suddenly it occurs to Faye that she should leave them to their happy reunion, and she turns to head further into the dungeons. They're searching the place now, in part to root out any of Grieth's men that might still be hanging around (but according to Deen, that won't be likely. Most of his man had no personal loyalty to Grieth and would have ran once he was taken out of the picture, along with whatever they could grab for themselves.), and somehow she'd ended up with Catria and Palla searching the dungeons for their missing sister.

Well that's over and done with. And she wasn't sure there was anything else worth looking for in the dark underground complex. And so, she's rather surprised to run into Celica at the far end of the place, head bowed and seemingly deep in thought.

“Celica?” She asks as she steps forward. “What's the matter?”

“Hm? Oh nothing.” Celica shakes her head. “I just... freed a priestess from Mila's temple. She's been trapped here for a few years by now.”

“Oh wow, that's awful.” Faye sighs and one hand reaches over to rub her right arm. “I guess... it really was the right thing to do, getting rid of Grieth.”

“Grieth wasn't the problem,” Celica says as she stares at the ground. Faye follows her gaze and notices discarded manacles and ball-and-chains strewn about the floor, along with darker stains that she decides she doesn't want to know about. “He was just a symptom. There's not enough food any more, especially out here in the desert. People get desperate... and they'll do whatever they need to do to provide for themselves. Especially if the king wasn't going to lift a finger to help them. Get someone like Grieth to rally them under a banner...” She shrugs, a gesture of helplessness. “If nothing changes, someone else will just take his place sooner or later.”

There's a dark bitterness in Celica's voice, and Faye can't help but wonder about it. “Well...” she says, trying to cheer Celica up. “After this, it's straight to Mila's Temple, right? And then she'll fix the drought and then everything will be fine!”

Celica nods and smiles. “Yes... everything will be fine.”

Faye knows Celica well enough by now to tell that the smile is forced.

(X)

Night has fallen yet again, and once again the chill of the desert settles deep into her bones. Wrapping her cloak tighter around herself, she wanders the hallways of the captured citadel. She can't help but wonder what everyone is doing right now. She supposes its possible they've already turned in for the night, but she'd also caught snippets of conversation that told her quite a few of them wanted to celebrate their big success at stopping Grieth.

As for herself, she's still not used to socializing with the others. Making small talk is fine, she supposes, but she's still wary of opening up any more than that.

She's on the verge of simply heading back to her room and spending the rest of the night there when she frowns. The faint sounds of a slow, mournful tune being played reaches her ears, and she looks around for the source of the music.

Gradually as she wanders the place it becomes apparent that music is coming from higher up in the castle, and she continues to follow it upwards. As she emerges onto the battlements, she sees Leon and Kamui sitting together under the night sky. Leon has a carved wooden flute at his mouth and as she watches, he continues to play, a melody whose melancholy strains seem to linger in the air.

She doesn't say anything anything at first; she simply moves over to where the two of them are sitting by themselves. Kamui gives her a brief nod of acknowledgement as he brings a bottle to his lips, but Leon's eyes are closed and he gives no indication that he's aware of her approach. Gathering her robes, she settles herself down on the stone floor, leaning against the parapet and feeling the cold stone against her back.

For a while she simply sits in silence, listening to the music, pondering what it is that would make Leon decide to play this tune out of all possible ones. Finally, the music fades away and Leon brings the flute away from his lips.

“You're pretty good,” Faye says. She's not sure what else to say, but it doesn't feel right leaving it off on that, so she shrugs and adds, “I really enjoyed listening to it.”

“Is that so?” Leon leans his head back as well, and Faye can see something of a deep melancholy in his expression. “Can't say most people would claim to enjoy listening to a dirge like this one.”

“A... dirge?” Faye leans her head to one side. “Well, it definitely sounded sad, but that's part of its beauty, isn't it? Aren't some of the most famous and beautiful melodies composed out of heartbreak?”

“Heartbreak?” Leon chuckles. “I'd say so. Say, Faye, you wouldn't happen to actually know the tune I was playing, would you?”

“Er... well, no.” She shakes her head. “First time I've heard it, actually. Most of the songs back at the village were more... cheery?” _And bawdy, come to think of it. Drinking songs have tendency to be like that._

“Well, hardly surprising. It came from Rigel, after all.” He rolls the flute in his palm for a moment before continuing to speak. “It's an old wartime poem, actually. About a young lady who's waiting for her husband to come back from the frontlines of a war. She waits, and waits, but he never comes. The war ends, the soldiers come home, but no word ever reaches her, not even to confirm that he's dead. So she sits by the window, day after day, year after year, hoping against hope that one day, she'll see him walk through the door. And one day they find her there, died of a broken heart, looking for all the world like she's asleep.”

“... Oh.” She hangs her head down, keeping her gaze focused on the cold stone wall. “That sounds... That's so sad. I...” Her hearts throbs, painful against her chest and for some reason she finds herself short of breath. “I can't...”

 _What if Alm dies and I never find out?_ She shakes her head once. No. That won't happen to Alm. He's strong. He won't falter, no matter the foe.

She raises her head, trying to distract herself from such thoughts – and she notices that Leon's closed his eyes, and in the shining moonlight she can see the faint trail of tears down his cheeks.  
  
“Leon...” she says, but her voice is hesitant. Is she prying too much? “Are you... is everything okay?”

He doesn't reply immediately. “Back when I was just a greenhorn, there was someone I fell in love with. He meant the world to me. To be honest, I enlisted just so I could stay close to him. And wouldn't you know it, he went and got himself killed in our first real battle.” He opens his eyes now and stares up at the moon. “I was devastated. For the longest time I just... fell apart. I thought I'd never be happy again.”

“Oh... I'm so sorry, Leon.”

“It's all right.” Leon smiles, and it's a warm one of nostalgia. “It was Valbar. He saved me. Every time he saw me after that, he'd take the time to say something and try to cheer me up. He let me know that I would always find a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on in him. He took me to meet his family and told me to always consider myself part of their home. And he helped me mend my heart, even if he probably didn't realize it.”

Something about the way Leon speaks about Valbar creates a twinge in her heart and she nods as realization hits. “You love Valbar, don't you.”

“Well, when you get to know someone as wonderful as him, what _can_ you do but fall in love?” Leon laughs but then it fades and he heaves a sigh. “Don't tell him, okay? Valbar doesn't need any more to deal with after losing his family to pirates.”

“I won't,” she promises. She can't say she's privy to all the details about Leon and Valbar's relationship, but as a request from a friend who's been looking out for her since Zofia Castle, it's the least she can do. Suddenly, on an impulse, she speaks. “I... guess it knows how it feels. I have... well, it's not anywhere like your situation, I suppose, but I have someone I... care a lot about, too.”

“Your friend in the Deliverance?” Leon's raises his eyebrow and smirks, and she merely nods in reply. “What was his name, again? Alm?”

“Yes, that's right.” One hand reaches up to massage her arm as her gaze turns to the starry sky. “He's... always been my prince. Ever since we were little. He's so strong, and... gentle and kind at the same time. He's always ready with a kind word, or an encouraging smile, or a helping hand with whatever it is you're struggling with. I...” She takes a deep breath, and for the first time, she says it, simply and plainly. “I love him.”

“Well, he certainly sounds like quite the catch. Maybe even comparable to Valbar!” A silence, and then Leon speaks again, his voice softer. “Does he love you too?”

The question is unusually direct, but then again from everything she's seen of him Leon has always been the direct type. “I... don't know. I guess... I never pressed the issue before. And before I got the chance, he...” She sighs, trying to disperse the weight that seems to have settled in her chest. “He left me behind to join the Deliverance.”

“Left you behind?” For the first time since she'd arrived on the battlements, Kamui speaks up and Faye starts in surprise. She'd almost forgotten he was there too, perched atop a parapet and staring out at the ocean that looms below them in the distance. “Those are some heavy words.”

“Heavy words?” Faye blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it's just my perspective, and don't take the ramblings of a drunken fool like me as the Mother's words or anything...” Kamui swings his legs over and pushes himself down so that he's now sitting opposite Faye. “But the way I see it, people are always heading _towards_ something rather than away from something else.”

“Kamui's family lived a nomadic lifestyle,” Leon explains. “So he's always had the touch of wanderlust about him. Part of why he became a mercenary, actually.”

“Yeah, well,” a friendly grin finds it way onto Kamui's face, “that's only part of it. That and the coin. Just heading where the wind takes you may sound nice for a while, but everyone's got a goal they're working towards.”

“I guess?” Faye shrugs.

“So you can say that he's leaving you behind, but the way I see it, he's making his way towards his goal or his calling in life. And if you making your own way takes the both of you down different roads or maybe even the same one at way different speeds, then so be it. Everyone's got their own path to take.”

Faye frowns at that. She doesn't at all like the idea of Alm heading down a different path from her. And anyway, Alm _is_ her goal in life. Or at least a very big part of it.

A silence descends on the three of them for a while before Kamui laughs. “Sorry, was that too much of a downer? Must be the drink getting to me, then.”

“Hey, Faye?”

“What is it?” She looks over at Leon.

“Tell me something. Look, I'm glad you love someone, and I don't know him so all I can do is very sincerely hope he loves you too, but if this Alm boy doesn't love you... could you still be happy?”

The question is sincere and there's no malice in Leon's words. Nevertheless Faye suddenly finds breathing a lot more difficult. “I... what?” is all she manages.

“Not to make this about me but...” Leon shrugs his shoulders. “I know Valbar's never going to see me as anything more than a very dear friend. And that's fine by me. Just being able to support him... being able to make sure he's happy... that's enough for me.

“But what about you? You said you love Alm, but you also don't know if he loves you. If worst comes to worst, and it turns out he doesn't return your feelings... will you be okay with that?”

“I...” Faye draws her cloak tighter around herself as a deep chill settles in her body – and she knows that it has nothing to do with the winds, as cold as they may be. “I don't know.”

She knows that the look Leon is giving her is full of sympathy, but suddenly she realizes she very much wants to be alone. Bidding them a hasty goodnight (and she sees the expression that flashes across Leon's face; he's worried that perhaps he's struck a nerve or pushed too far with that last statement) she stands and begins the walk back to her room.

(X)

It's only when Faye nears the door of her room that she sees a warm orange glow spilling out of the doorway. She frowns. She knows she had left the room in the dark, so who-?

As she steps through the doorway, she's greeted by the sight of Celica sitting at her desk. Her conversation with Leon is still fresh in her mind and she feels herself instinctively tense at the sight. She takes a deep breath, tries to relax.

“Celica? Is something the matter? I thought I heard you'd be discussing plans for the next part of our journey with Saber or something...”

“Oh, Saber?” Celica chuckles slightly as she stands. “He's spending the night with Deen. Both of them were trying to drink the other under the table the last I saw them.”

“Deen? I thought Saber didn't like him?”

“Who knows? Apparently they're old war buddies, or something along those lines. And, well...” Celica's massaging her right hand with her left again. “I wanted... well, there hasn't been a good moment for this until now, what with us being so exhausted after that fight, so I'm sorry if it's a little late... but I wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” Faye makes her way over to the bed and settles herself on it. It's nearly time for bed anyway, and so she begins to loosen the ribbons that hold her braids in place.

“For saving me. Back in the desert.”

“Oh.” Faye frowns. “It's... Well, I want to say it's no big deal, but Genny told me that apparently pulling off a spell like that _is_ a big deal, so... but anyway...” She's not sure what to say. She doesn't _feel_ like she's done anything particularly special. She's glad she saved Celica – overjoyed – but she knows Celica would have done the same for her any day of the week.

“... Is something the matter, Faye?”

“Oh, no, nothing! I'm just... I don't know. I'm just happy you're safe. I don't feel like I need any thanks for that.”

“I see. Well, if nothing else, you can be proud that you helped to avert the vision you saw.”

“Yeah...” Faye sighs. “How do those visions work, anyhow? Does the Mother keep showing you premonitions that you have to work to avoid?”

“No, not really. Honestly, they don't come about that often. Even when seeking guidance from the Turnwheel, what's shown to you is usually something more mundane. Seeing a life-or-death situation that you have a chance to change is pretty rare, actually.”

 _Then why me?_ Faye shakes her head, dismisses the thought. That rare chance had allowed her to save Celica's life. She didn't need more than that.

“Well, it'd be nice if the Turnwheel's visions were more convenient.” She raises and lowers a shoulder. “Like, for example, showing us how the Deliverance is doing.” _How Alm is doing._

“Yes, it'd be nice to see how Alm is doing.” Celica's wistful statement, so much a mirror of her own thoughts, is unexpectedly jarring and as Faye feels her gut churn she realizes she's unconsciously clenched her fists, pulling at the soft fabric of her bed.

“Yes, it would.” It's all she can say in reply.

“Well, good night Faye.” Celica's smiles and nods to her before moving to snuff the candle. “Sleep well.”

_Tell her. Come on, tell her._

Uncle Mycen's words flash in her mind.

_I need to talk to her about this. I need to tell her._

_She deserves better. We both deserve better than letting this fester between us._

_**Tell her.** _

“You too.” Faye musters up a smile. “Good night, Celica.”

The dim light is extinguished and the room is plunged into darkness.

Faye waits until the fading sound of footsteps tells her that Celica is gone and then flops back onto the bed. She heaves a long, deep sigh of frustration and raises one arm up to cover her eyes.

 _Soon._ She promises herself. _Not tonight. The mood was all wrong for it anyway. But soon._

(X)

The morning finds Faye accompanying a group of the other girls as they head to the west wing of the fortress. They're in no real hurry to leave the place and they'll likely be staying at least another night, since they could all use the rest after the hard fought battles to claim the citadel. In the meantime, they have something to look for.

“I hope Grieth hasn't sold him or anything!” Est's expression is worried as she hurries towards the area where the stables are located (the information having been provided by a faintly amused Sonya).

“Well, pegasi are rare in Valentia. He'd most probably take his time and try to find a high bidder for the beast.” Celica's trying to comfort Est, but Faye can tell nothing's going to work except for her seeing her mount and companion with her own two eyes.

It appears fortune has smiled on them, at least in this matter; when Est throws open the doors to the stables she gives a gasp of delight.

“Snowbell! You're okay!”

And then she's rushing to the far end of the stables and throwing her arms around the pegasus tied down at the far end. The creature dips its head, obviously pleased to see her too, but the thick ropes tying it down restrict it from moving too much.

“Oh, no! Look at those bruises. What did they _do_ to you, Snowbell?”

Catria sighs and shakes her head. “Well, you know how pegasi will get when they're separated from their rider for a long time. Most likely they did it in an attempt to cow him into submission.”

Faye and Celica share a glance and as one they move forward to heal Snowbell. In seconds the creature is hale and hearty again as they busy themselves with getting rid of the of the beast's restraints.

It's only then that they hear a whickering sound from the opposite corner of the room. Faye turns, and catches sight of a flash of white.

“Another one?” she asks no one in particular.

And it is. It's another pegasus, this one slightly smaller than Est's, but likewise tied up at the far end of the stable.

“Huh!” Est is still running her hands through Snowbell's fur, but her gaze is curious as the others work to free the second pegasus as well. “I didn't know there were any other captured riders like me.”

“Maybe they weren't captured.” Catria says as her fingers work at stiff knots. “After all, a pegasus is worth far more than a rider. If she resisted too much, they might not have found keeping her alive worth the trouble.”

“Catria! That's so morbid!”

“I prefer to call it 'being realistic', Est.”

“There's the possibility that they simply captured a wild one,” Celica offers as she continues working on the knots as well. “Though rare, its not unheard of for pegasi to cross over from the east every once in a while. And this one doesn't have any signs of it having a rider before.”

The last of the knots are finally undone, and Celica reaches out to stroke the creature's fur. “There. You're free now – ah!” The pegasus flares its wings and in the closed space of the stables, it nearly clips Celica as she ducks away.

“Sorry, I should have warned you,” Catria says, and Faye notices she's keeping a healthy distance from the beast herself. “Pegasi don't like people touching them, especially people they don't know. They usually don't calm down around strangers until after they've chosen someone they accept as their...” her voice trails off and her mouth hangs open, “... rider,” she finally concludes lamely.

If she's surprised, it's still nothing compared to what Faye is feeling as the pegasus folds its wings and strides up to her. Once it nears, it lowers it head in what appears to be Faye to be a gesture of... supplication? Respect? She can't be sure.

“Well, what do you know?” Est gives a delighted laugh and pats Faye on the shoulder. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

“Huh? I...” Faye glances around the room, looking for guidance. Is she supposed to do something? The pegasus continues to look at her with a lidded gaze, and Celica gives a shrug of incomprehension.

“Ohhh, yeah, you don't know.” Est laughs and the pushes her forward slightly. “Go touch her! Show her you accept!”

“A – accept?” She barely has any idea what's going on; she's just saying the first thing that comes to mind now.

“What she's _saying_ , Faye,” there's now an amused smile on Catria's face as well, “is that this pegasus is willing to let you ride her. And yes, it's a her, by the way.”

“What? Me? But I – I've never ridden a pegasus before! I don't know how!”

“Well, I would guess not. But it's never too late to learn. If you want to, of course.”

“I...” Faye looks at the pegasus again. It's still standing there, waiting patiently.

Slowly, she reaches out and strokes its head.

 _Why me? Why choose me, of all people?_ The pegasus blinks slowly at the touch, long eyelashes fluttering in the bright light. _Why not Celica? She's much more graceful than I am, more poised and better learned._

But, for whatever reason, the pegasus wants Faye to be her rider. Faye, and no one else.

“Hello there.” Her voice is soft. “It's nice to meet you.”

The pegasus neighs, and somehow she can tell that it's an expression of happiness. And Faye feels a smile come onto her face.

“Well, congratulations!” Celica's now at her side – but still being sure not to get too close to the pegasus. “You really keep surprising me, Faye. Who would have thought you'd qualify as a pegasus rider!”

“Yes, I'd say it was pretty unexpected.” Catria raises an eyebrow and folds her arms, a slight smile on her face. “But good for you! And good thing you have us Whitewings here. We can teach you the basics of riding a pegasus if you want.”

“I don't...” Faye laughs from sheer surprise and the surreality of the situation. “I don't know. I never actually saw myself as, well, flying a pegasus into battle or anything like that.”

“Er... not quite.” Est is shaking her head. “There's like, a _world_ of difference between just flying a pegasus and being able to _fight_ on one. I don't wanna put you down or anything but you're not going to become a pegasus knight in anything less than a year, at least.”

“My sister is right. You're already busy with your cleric training, and being a pegasus knight isn't something you master as a side job. Not to mention that this particular pegasus is most likely wild after all; it's not trained for fighting and it's going to panic if it actually ends up in a battle.”

“Oh. Well, that's a shame, isn't it?” Celica says.

“I guess.” In truth, maybe she's relieved. She's just getting used to fighting. Learning how to do it while in the air might be too daunting a task anyway.

“Still, flying is flying.” Catria looks the pegasus up and down and gives an approving nod. “Do you have a name you want to give her?”

_A name?_

Suddenly, she realizes. It's not just about forming a bond. The pegasus is – was – wild, and up until it was captured by Grieth, it was free. And now she's going to entrust herself to Faye. Not just to be her rider, but also her owner and caretaker. The name is only the very first step.

Can she handle that responsibility? No, that's not the issue. She _has_ to handle the responsibility. And it's up to her to learn how.

She runs her hand along the pegasus' neck one more time as she sifts through the possibilities.

“Flora,” Faye finally decides. “Her name is Flora.”

Flora neighs one more time and leans in close to nuzzle Faye's cheek. Faye closes her eyes, presses her forehead against her new companion, and smiles.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

  **Author Notes:**

Headcanon time! I'm of the belief that Faye actually does not have much in the way of self-esteem. She doesn't see anything special about herself, and while a lot of the time she's okay with that it also makes her anxious and clingy around Alm because while she has a huge crush on him, she also mentally puts herself down because she doesn't see anything special about herself that would allow her to woo him properly.

Also are you aware Faye is one of the two units who learns Rescue in the game? With the other one being **Atlas** of all people. And of course she gets one more unique spell. They seriously wanted her to become a Cleric.

As for Faye riding a pegasus... well, that _is_ the most common depiction of her in Cipher cards (because of course she's the newest Catria...) but her just getting one out of nowhere if she promotes at a Mila statue just doesn't sit right in a written story like this. At least for me. Hence the scene above. And of course the name is a meaningful one.

As long as we're on that subject I can't believe there's no canon name for any of the Whitewing pegasi after something like 7 games with them being playable. You'd think with all they harp on about the bonds pegasi form with their riders they'd make them a bit more prominent for the series' most recurring pegasus knights but nooooo...

Anyhow, looks like everything's coming up roses for Faye right now, huh? Hmm... I wonder if anything might happen in the coming chapter...

In any case, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I'd appreciate any comments and criticisms you have to share.


	6. When She Found Out That Celica Had Lied To Her

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Wow, I got over a hundred kudos for this work! Thanks so much, everyone! I hope you all continue to enjoy my writing!

 **Edit:** WOW there were a lot of typos and verb-tense issues on the first pass. Went through and hopefully fixed all of them by now.

* * *

The first time Faye makes a crown of flowers to give Celica is also the day they first meet. The girl is introduced to them as Alm's cousin and she is quiet and withdrawn, clinging tightly to Uncle Mycen's trouser leg and reluctant to meet the gaze of any of the kids.

The boys try to be 'friendly' by which she means they instantly swarm her and pester her with questions. They range from the mundane about her parents to whether she'd like to go fishing with them, to whether she prefers potatoes or carrots in stew (the last one courtesy of Tobin and Gray who had been arguing over the exact same issue five minutes earlier).

Celica shrinks back even further from the unwanted attention, and somehow manages to look even more miserable. Alm is the only other one of their group who hangs back, and Faye shakes her head, annoyed at how the others don't realize how uncomfortable they're making the girl feel.

Uncle Mycen is mindful enough to shoo them off after a couple of minutes, telling them that she's tired and wants to rest. And so they stroll through the village square, chattering about the new girl and wondering about what would make her want to move down to boring old Ram Village.

Faye doesn't think Ram is boring at all but she lets it be. She has other things to do. Leave it to the boys to be clueless when it comes to properly welcoming a lady to the village. _She_ knows just what to do. When she has the chance, she makes her way out to the fields outside of the village walls. Once there, she busies herself with hunting down wildflowers – the bright, pretty ones with long flexible stalks that she can twist together in circles. Slowly, the crown starts to take shape.

“Hey, Faye,” a new voice startles her out of her concentration, “whatcha doing?”

“Hi Alm!” She lifts her head and gives him a warm smile. “And what's it look like? I'm making a flower crown!”

“Oh,” she hears the interest in his voice drain away and she rolls her eyes. “I haven't seen you make one in a while.”

“Well that's 'cause none of you ever like it when I make you one!”

“'Course not! Boys don't wear flower crowns!”

“Yeah, sure you don't.” Faye shrugs as she returns to her work. “But Celica's a girl, so I bet she'll love it when I give one to her!”

“Oh, so it's like a welcome present?”

“Uh-huh!” Faye nods as she continues weaving the stalks together. She sticks her tongue out in concentration as she does so, trying to balance how tightly she winds the strands so they won't come apart at the slightest shake, but not so hard that they'll fray and tear. “It'll be the perfect welcoming gift, don't you think?”

“Well...” An odd note of hesitancy enters Alm's voice. “Actually, I don't think you should bother.”

Her hands still. “Huh? Wh – but why?”

“I mean, you're never going to see her again. Or any of us. So, like I said, why bother?”

She's frowning now as she turns to face him. “What are you talking about, Al-” She blinks, and cuts herself off.

She's facing an empty field.

“Alm?” She calls, trying not to let the quaver in her voice show. “Alm, what happened? Where did you go? This isn't funny!”

There's no response. The field remains empty.

After a moment, Faye sets off at a trot towards Ram Village. Had Alm gone back to the village for something? That seemed the most likely option. Well, leaving aside that he had apparently vanished in an instant. If nothing else, she could find her parents and ask them if anything was wrong.

After a moment, she frowns. She's walking forward, the gates of the village loom in the distance, but for some reason, no matter how much she moves, the village – never seems to get any closer.

She quickens her pace, moves faster and faster – and then she's breaking in a flat-out sprint, heart pounding in her chest, gasping for air, arms flailing and reaching forward, trying to grasp ahold of something, anything tangible, but she can't, she can't move forward. The village, her home remains out of reach. No matter how hard she runs and reaches out – she can't return to the village.

And then Faye's eyes snap open and she looks around in confusion. _Where?_

Stone walls. A small room with a desk. A window carved into the side of the nearby wall, through which a cold breeze blows.

Faye sighs and reaches up to rub at her eyes with one hand.

The desert fortress. Not Ram Village.

Not home.

The sky outside is still dark. She breathes out a long sigh and closes her eyes again, trying to return to sleep and get a bit more rest before the morning comes.

(X)

The morning meal is taken in the dining hall of the citadel. Grieth had kept the place well stocked and plenty of food remains the storehouses. The party isn't one to turn down free supplies and so they've moved most of what they want up to the hall – both to eat now and to sort into what they can carry with them later.

“Oh, hey, look at this!” Boey looks up from the sack he'd been rummaging through and holds up a tiny pot. “They had some yoghurt tucked away in here!”

“Mine!” Faye calls out as she raises her hand – at the same time she hears Genny's voice say the exact same thing.

Faye shares a look with Genny and they both break out into chuckles.

“Split it with you?” She smiles at the younger cleric, who nods back.

“It's been so long since I had the chance to eat some, so having any at all will be a treat for me,” she says as Faye retrieves the pot from Boey.

“Is that so?” a new voice comes from behind the both of them. “Well, you can have some of mine, in that case.”

Faye turns her head and sees Sonya standing behind them, one hand reaching out to offer another pot to Genny. Faye starts to nod her thanks, but then her attention is drawn to Genny, who appears to have tensed up and frozen in place.

Sonya apparently notices too, because she raises her eyebrow and an amused smile comes onto her face. “Don't worry, little one. I don't bite.”

“Huh? What?” Genny shakes her head and takes a step away from the older lady. “Oh, no no no, sorry. It's not like... I'm just...”

“It's fine. I'll keep my distance if you want,” Sonya says as she places her yoghurt on the table. “Enjoy your treat.” And she's gone as soon as she arrived.

“Are you all right, Genny?” Faye says as she settles herself on the table and unseals her pot of yoghurt. A moment later Genny sits down opposite her, her face still downcast.

“I handled that badly,” she mumbles.

“Well, I understand being wary of her.” Faye looks up in the direction that Sonya had left. “She was our enemy until a couple of days ago after all.” _Not to mention that company of... women she has with her. I guess those are the witches Jesse mentioned, come to think of it._

“No, it's not like that.” Genny taps the spoon against the side of her yoghurt pot, obviously deep in thought. “She kind of reminds me of...” She sighs and shakes her head. “Never mind. It was just a thought.”

“If you say so.” Faye lets the matter drop as she begins eating. As she puts the spoon in her mouth, the rich, creamy taste spreads over her tongue and she closes her eyes momentarily in bliss. It had been far too long since she'd gotten the chance to enjoy food like this, what with the droughts and all, and the taste is just as good as she remembers. “Mm! This is so good!”

“It is, isn't it?” Genny is smiling as well as she tucks into her own food. “Delicious!”

Just then, another voice calls out to her from behind.

“Faye! Don't forget out first session is after breakfast.”

“Got it!” She offers a thumbs up to Catria who nods in return before walking over to the table where her sisters are eating.

“Session?” Genny asks before her eyes widen in realization. “Oh, of course! You're going to learn how to ride a pegasus, right?”

“Well, that's the idea...” She thinks of Flora, who would currently be waiting patiently in the stables. “I just hope I don't fall off and make a fool of myself, or anything.”

“Oh, you'll be fine!” Genny smiles brightly and leans in closer. “Can I come watch? I think I might be able to use this as research material for my story!”

“Well now I _really_ hope I don't make a fool out of myself,” she says with a smile as she stands.

(X)

“It's a good thing Grieth had all sorts of stolen goods in his fortress,” Catria says as she helps Faye with tightening the saddle on Flora. “We were able to scrounge up a spare set of riding gear pretty easily.”

“Still, I wonder how he came across all this stuff.” As Faye works, she silently marvels at how calm Flora appears to be. She's wild and has probably never seen any of the equipment before, much less have it slowly and painstakingly attached to her, but she bears the fussing stoically, with no hints of discomfort.

“It's because she trusts you,” Catria says, and Faye sighs.

“I'm that easy to read, am I?”

“Not always,” she stands and regards the saddle before giving a satisfied nod. “But many first time riders are surprised by just how much the pegasus trusts them. To be honest, I was the same back when I first started out. You'd see a completely different story if I were trying to do this without you present, believe me.”

Faye doesn't respond immediately, opting once again to run her hand across Flora's neck. _Trust, huh? Why trust me so deeply, then? Have I done anything to earn it?_

“Anyway, that should do it. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“That's fine. We'll start from the absolute basics.”

As Catria slowly teaches her how to smoothly mount and dismount Flora, she's aware that both Est and Genny have come to the field and are sitting at the sidelines, quietly watching. It's a little distracting at first, but she quickly tunes them out and focuses on the task at hand.

After a while, Catria whistles and her own pegasus swoops down beside her. She mounts her steed and Faye marvels at how smooth and effortless she makes it look.

“Ready to give actual flight a try?” Her smile in encouraging. “Don't worry. We'll take it slow, and I'll be here if anything looks to be going awry.”

Faye takes a deep breath and nods. _Here goes nothing._

“Don't worry too much about issuing commands. Pegasi are usually intelligent enough to figure out the gist of what their owners want them to do. Just remember the signals for flying higher, and for descending.”

“Got it.”

“All right, then.” Catria clicks her tongue and utters a word of command, and then her mount is taking off into the air again. But it's not the rapid, darting pace she sets during a battle; she's gliding athrough the air in a calmer manner and slowly circling. From her vantage point, she looks down at Faye. There's no way their words will reach the other at this range, but the look on her face is clear.

' _Give it a try._ '

 _All right. Here_ _I go_ _._ She takes another deep breath and pulls back on the reins. Flora whinnies in response and begins to trot forward. For a moment, Faye is confused, and then suddenly it's as if Flora jumps up and – somehow misses the ground on the way back down.

“WAAAAAAAHHH!” Her yell is utterly undignified but suddenly the world is rushing crazily all about her and everything seems to be shrinking and growing bigger at the same time. She has no point of comparison to judge what's going on – one half of the world is vast, brilliant blue stretching out to infinity, the other half is featureless golden-brown that roils and swells and everything is spinning around her-

Suddenly a darting white shape appears at her side, and Catria is there as well. She's closer now, but Faye still can't hear or say a thing – the wind whips away her voice as soon as it leaves her throat. Instead she stares at Catria – and the calm on the other rider's face somehow makes her feel more at ease as well.

Suddenly, Faye realizes she's slowing down, and the world isn't rushing by past her any more. She blinks, looks around – and they're still flying, but at a slower pace, and she's able to take stock of the situation, to judge just how where she is and where she's going. For the first time she also notes that they're _not_ that high up – they're barely clearing the walls of the citadel, in fact – and Faye blinks in surprise.

“Remember!” She can hear Catria's voice now, even if the older girl has to shout to make herself heard as she flies beside her, matching her speed perfectly to Faye's. “Flora is bonded with you! She can sense if you're not comfortable with the speed or pace of the flight!”

Faye releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and looks down at Flora. “All right, Flora,” she takes another deep breath, tries to calm her hammering heart to a more manageable rate, “this is good. Let's stick with this speed for now, okay?”

Flora neighs, and swoops through the sky, wings spread wide to catch the air and slow her descent. And for the next hour, Faye is slowly introduced to the terrifying joy and the breathless wonder of flight.

(X)

Faye is barely able to dismount Flora before she realizes her legs feel like jelly and she stumbles, almost collapses. And then Catria's there again, a firm reassuring grip on her shoulder.

“Wow,” Faye mumbles breathlessly. “That was... wow.”

“It's amazing, isn't it?” Catria is smiling as she looks at both their pegasi. “There's nothing in the world quite like the feeling of soaring through the air.” Then she frowns. “But, er, just so you know. Your legs and pelvis are going to feel like they've been sat on by a large bear around this time tomorrow. So maybe get Genny or Celica to help soothe the ache when that happens?”

“I'll... keep that in mind.” Faye totters forward unsteadily, and then Genny and Est are running up, offering her congratulations and delighted laughter.

“That was so cool!” Genny exults. “The way Flora seemed to be able to tell what you were thinking the whole time, and the way she moved through the air! How did you do that? Isn't this your first time flying a pegasus?”

“Honestly? I don't know.” Faye laughs as she allows herself to be led to their bench and flops down on it. After a taking a long drink, she wipes her mouth and shakes her head. “It was like Flora did all the work and I was just along for the ride.”

“Well, if you ask me, I think that's better than some first timers who try too hard to manage everything!” Est pipes up from Faye's other side. She leans forward enthusiastically. “I mean, look at it this way; pegasi have spent their whole _lives_ flying. So they know how it works, way better than we do! Sometimes I think the best way to describe it is we let our pegasi know what it is we want to do, and then we let them take charge on _how_ to do it.”

As Est talked, Faye looks over at Flora, who had trotted over to the water trough set up for her and is now quenching her thirst. “Trust in them, then?”

“Well, yeah! It goes both ways, after all.” Est nodded as Catria neared.

“Both ways, huh... I wonder why Flora chose me,” Faye murmurs. She hadn't meant for the question to be overheard, but Catria's ears are sharper than she had thought.

“Who knows why any pegasus chooses anyone?” The older rider settles herself down on the bench and shrugs. “Back in Macedon, adventurous girls would often make trips to the pegasus nesting grounds and try to see if they could get baby pegasi to bond with them. Most of the time they'd return empty handed, of course. Luckily adult pegasi are usually threatening enough to chase little kids off without actually harming them. Of course once in a while a girl _does_ find a pegasi that likes her and then she returns home triumphant. I'm willing to bet more than one friendship was ruined when some came back empty handed and others didn't.”

“Well, you know the old wives' tale,” Est says with a sage nod and Catria rolls her eyes.

“What tale?” Genny asks the question before Faye can, and Faye suspects that the cleric is eating all this up – it'll all be great fodder for her writing later, no doubt.

“Oh, they say that pegasi are especially drawn to women who are destined to be unlucky in love!” And Faye nearly spits her drink out.

“W – what?” she sputters.

“Oh, come on, it's just a bit of superstition!” Est rolls her eyes. “Look, I've got a husband waiting for me back home, and Abel is just the greatest guy you could possibly ask for! And sure, my sisters haven't found their special someones _yet_ , but I'm sure they'll find the right guy in no time! Right, Catria?”

“Est, can we not?” Catria shakes her head and sighs. “I've told you I'm not comfortable discussing my love life in public.”

Est laughs and apologizes and the matter is easily dropped, but Faye frowns. Had she seen... something? Some sort of hurt that had worked its way past Catria's normally composed expression...

No, it's not her place to pry. It was enough to leave things at that.

As the morning wears on, she sits there and listens to the others as they discuss the finer points of caring for your pegasus and whether or not giving the princess of an epic tale a pegasus _and_ a magic talking horse would be a little too over-the-top, she finds herself surprised at... well, how mundanely pleasant it all feels.

(X)

“Catria was right,” Faye mutters as she walks. “My legs _do_ feel like they've been crushed by a horse.”

Beside her, Celica fails to keep her rather unladylike chuckle hidden and Faye gives her a mock glare.

“I suppose that's why you decided to walk instead of riding her?” Celica looks over her shoulder, where Flora is keeping pace with the group. She isn't leashed or bridled, and seems content to follow along behind them, and so Faye has let her be.

“Well, that and I figured it would be better for the whole group if I let her carry provisions instead.”

“You didn't give her that much, though.” The packs tied to Flora are loaded and bulging, but there are still significantly less of them than on the packhorses that Celica had brought along with them.

“Well... I mean, I didn't want weigh her down too much.” Faye scratches at her chin. “It's not like she's just an ordinary beast of burden after all...”

“Yes, I suppose pegasi don't do well in desert environs,” Celica says as raises her hand to shield her face from the glare of the sun. “Well, if it all goes as planned we'll be out of the desert in a couple of days.”

“And then it's straight to Mila's Temple, right?” And Faye finds herself wondering what the place will look like. She's never seen it in person of course, and all she has are a couple of short descriptions from the scriptures that Celica had brought with her.

“More or less.” Celica taps her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. “There's a cave to the northwest of here that's supposed to house a shrine to the Mother, though. I thought about paying a visit there and seeing if there's anything that might help us.”

“If there ever was anything in that shrine that's of value,” Sonya's voice comes from behind the both of them, “it'll be long gone by now. Grieth was a worm, but he was a meticulous one. He'll have scoured everything in Eastern Zofia clean, including this shrine you speak of.”

 _I've got to figure out how she keeps being able to walk up without me noticing like that._ Faye thinks as she looks over her shoulder. Celica doesn't seem at all perturbed, however. Then again she was the one who made the decision to bring them along, so perhaps she already trusts them more than Faye does.

She glances ahead at the vanguard of their party, where Deen is marching alongside Saber. Faye frowns and tries to ignore the feeling of unease she gets at the idea of trusting people she had only recently fought against.

“It comes with being a mercenary,” Kamui had told her shortly after Celica had made the announcement that she had decided to accept their offer to accompany her. “People whose throats you tried to slit yesterday could be the guy watching your back tomorrow. You learn to live with it after a while.”

She's not sure she'll ever actually get used to the idea, but then she's also to sure she'll need to. After all, even with this detour to the shrine, they'll be at their final destination soon, and then their quest will be over.

On that note she realizes Celica is saying something and she returns her focus to the present.

“I wonder...” Celica says as she gazes off into the distance. “The Mother has set guardians in her sacred sites before. It's possible they would have defended the place from bandits or roaming thugs.”

“Possible,” Sonya concedes with a nod. “And will they be more amenable to a priestess of Mila approaching the site instead?”

“I don't know. I would hope so, but..”

So it's the possibility of another battle, then. Faye tries not to sigh, and focuses instead of moving forward. Ever forward.

Towards the journey's end.

(X)

The first time Faye makes a crown of flowers to give Celica, she's a bit surprised that Alm joins her out in the fields and asks her what she's doing.

“Flower wreaths are pretty!” Faye declares as she twists the stems, weaving them with a deftness born of experience. “And this one is made with the wildflowers that only grow in the fields around Ram Village, so it'll be extra special! It'll be like Ram Village itself is welcoming her!”

“Yeah, but...” Alm sighs and flops down next to her, almost crushing one of the flowers she'd been planning to use. “There's gotta be something better to give her. For me, I mean,” he amends the statement as he sees the look on Faye's face. “Flowers are a great welcome present for you to give her! But if I give her a welcoming present, I want to make mine more... I dunno. Manly.”

Faye laughs as she plucks another sundrop from the ground. “Well maybe you could give her one of the sticks you like to pretend are swords. That'll be _extra_ manly, won't it, Alm?”

“Hey, come on! I'm being serious! Grandpapa always tells me first impressions are important! I don't wanna be like Gray and come across as some sort of dumb jerk who doesn't know tact or anything!”

Faye's expression grows serious, and she slows her work, though she doesn't stop. “You don't need to worry, Alm,” she says after a slight pause. “You could _never_ come across as a jerk.”

He smiles and the sheer heart behind the expression makes Faye smile too. “Thanks, Faye! It's nice to know you've always got my back!”

“Any time.” And after a bit longer, Faye nods in satisfaction. “Okay, it's done!”

And indeed it is. Faye has to admit that she thinks she's outdone heself. The flowers are arranged to make a pattern of colours that repeat all along the ring, and spaced evenly so it doesn't look uneven or weird no matter the angle you wear it. The stems are woven together nice and tight, and for good measure she's also used the twine she'd gotten from her grandmother to tie the thing together – it'll keep the whole creation together for a longer period of time. For a moment Faye wonders if Celica might want to keep it forever as a memento of their first meeting, and she laughs at her own thoughts.

“Wow, that's really pretty!” Alm says. Then he blinks, folds his arms, and looks away. “In a... not-manly, kinda girly sort of way, I mean. That is – I'm sure Celica will love it.”

“She sure will!” Springing to her feet, Faye pauses for a moment to dust herself off and turns to head in the direction of home. “C'mon, Alm! Let's go find Celica and give her a _real_ welcome! And then we'll show her how amazing Ram Village can be!”

(X)

The light of the sputtering torch illuminates the underground shore, and the water lapping gently against the sand feels cool against Faye's bare feet as she sighs and leans back against one of the boulders that dot the landscape.

“I never would have thought a place like this existed.”

The Dragon Shrine that Celica had led them to was an underground cavern. After clearing out the Terrors that were roaming the pathways, they had ventured further in and stumbled upon this place. An underground sea, whose waters stretched out into the infinite darkness ahead.

“Where do you think the sea goes?” she wonders out loud as she strains her eyes, peering into the gloom to see if perhaps there was some hint of land on the far shores.

“Well, obviously to the ocean. That's where all flowing water ends up sooner or later.” Boey raises an eyebrow and looks at her like her question was a weird one. “Where else would it go?”

“Well it could just be a huuuuge underground lake!” Mae points out as she hops down from the boulder, landing with a soft thump next to Faye. “So all the water's stuck in here with nowhere to go. And nobody to admire it, unless someone like us comes along!”

Something about the casual way Mae talks about the sea here being trapped and isolated from the ocean sounds unspeakably lonely and depressing to Faye, and she frowns, drawing her arms around herself. “I think I prefer Boey's idea.” _What's been wrong with me the past few days? I keep getting bogged down with depressing thoughts._

Mae shrugs, her expression carefree. But from behind the three of them comes another voice.

“Of course, there are the old tales.” A light draws closer, and Faye sees that it's Celica, her shape lit by a fireball trailing around her in a lazy orbit. “The say that the sea in this shrine is the bridge between our world and the world of the dead.”

“Aaaand now I'm creeped out.” Boey sighs and shuffles away from the gently lapping waves. “Seriously, Lady Celica, why'd you have to go and say that?”

There's a gentle chuckle and Celica steps forward. “Well, I doubt anyone's ever crossed the length of this silent sea to make sure. So we'll just have to let mysteries remain mysteries, won't we?”

Faye is about to respond when she hears a soft mewling sound coming from behind her.

“Huh, what?” She turns, and walking up to them from the shore is-

“Oh, a kitty!” Celica's already crouching down and holding out her hand in a gesture of welcome. “What are doing all the way out here, kitty?”

Meanwhile Faye rolls her eyes and steps further away from the approaching feline. “Ugh, cats. I never liked them. Horrid creatures.”

“What?” Celica doesn't look up. “How can you not like kittens? Look at him! At his fluffy fur! He's adorable!”

“Sure he is. Up until he tries to steal your fish.”

“It's only stealing it you _aren't_ willing to give your food to him!”

She snorts with a mixture of irritation and amusement before she looks further up the beach. “But what you said is true. What _is_ a cat doing here? It doesn't look feral, at least.”

“True, it seems to be comfortable around humans.” Boey peers into the gloom along the beach. “What could have brought it here?

Faye picks up the torch and shrugs. “Well, if we're all up to it, we could explore.”

The far ends of the beach are blessedly free of Terrors, but when they reach the end of the cavern, they're met with a grim sight, regardless. It's a tent, one that's been set up recently, but it's torn to shreds, with dark blood spattered all across the fabric and strips of cloth waving forlornly in the breeze. Celica starts to tell them to search for survivors, but then cuts herself off and shakes her head. They all know that it'd be a futile effort.

“You ever hear the rumours?” Atlas says later when they return and report their grisly find. “Folk who live around these parts say somewhere in this shrine there's a spring with water that's been blessed by the Mother. And it's got power to even bring back the dead. Of course most people don't put any stock in it, but I guess every once in a while, you'll find someone desperate enough to take a gamble. And it didn't pay off, in this case.”

“Fools.” Sonya's voice is tinged with the hard edge of bitterness. “Haven't they seen? The Terrors themselves are already the gods' work. To say nothing of Duma's puppet witches. _That_ is what imploring the gods to work against death will result in. Is that what they want?”

“Well, I can't speak for anyone but me, of course.” The mountain villager rubs the back of his head. “But desperate's desperate. And even the smallest chance that it turns out okay seems like something worthwhile to risk it all, I guess.”

Sonya drops the matter there, although the expression on her face remains dark. And Faye frowns. Apparently Sonya wasn't a fan of the witches either. But why keep a company of them under her command, then?

The talk of divine powers and the dead is unsettling to Faye, and she wonders if that's unbecoming of a cleric. But this wasn't something she wanted, and it's easier to think of Mila solely as the Earth Mother, one who gives her blessings and bounty to all of Zofia, and nothing else.

Further exploration of the caves reveals a statue of the Mother, and scattered supplies they can use. But with nothing much of substance, they decide to turn and head back.

In a cavern surrounded by pitch darkness, Faye suddenly feels very much alone, and the longing to return to peaceful days under the bright sun in Ram Village flares with such intensity that she needs to pause for a moment to catch her breath.

 _Just a little longer,_ she reminds herself. _Just a bit more to the Temple, and then this will be over._

(X)

“All right, focus and keep the energy flow steady.” Celica is standing several paces away, her arms folded.

Faye takes a deep breath, feeling sweat trickle down the side of her forehead as she concentrates. Her outstretched hand glows with light, but the heat coming from it is not the gentle warmth of healing. The energy being channelled now is volatile and crackling with power, and the feeling in her hand thrums on the edge between pressure and pain.

Still the spell isn't complete, she needs to weave it tighter, more focused, and so she continues to focus and craft the spell. The magic surges, thrums with life, and-

“Ah!” Pain spikes in her hand and Faye's concentration shatters. Incomplete, the orb of light fragments with a loud popping noise before fading away into nothing. “Ow...”

“Are you all right, Faye?” Celica is already hurrying to her side.

“Yeah, I just...” She sighs and shakes her hand to clear away the sting. “I just lost control for a moment.”

“Hm,” Celica nods thoughtfully. “The energy used to create the Seraphim spell _is_ rather different from most of the other spells you've learnt before. I should have spent more of the lesson better preparing you for that. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Faye says as she settles herself down to rest. They're on main trail that leads to Mila's Temple, and they're expected to reach it the day after next. A part of her wonders if that's why she's also been trying to push her own boundaries faster, master more magic at an accelerated pace. After all once they reach the Temple their journey will come to an end.

 _And then what?_ Would she part ways with Celica there? Something about that notion doesn't sit right with Faye, just so quickly turning her back on her friend after such a long journey together, but at the same time she can't deny her longing for home.

 _Maybe I could invite Celica back with me._ She knows Celica can't actually come live in Ram again, that would just be silly. But maybe if she came back and paid a visit... maybe if she'd come spend some time in Ram, it would feel like old times. Especially if – when – the others came back from the war too.

Once again the image of Alm flits through her mind, and once again Faye sighs.

“Hey, Celica...?” _Should I talk to her about Alm now? We're near the end of the journey..._

“Hm? What is it?” As Celica turns back to face her, Faye realizes that she's distracted. She was looking off in the direction of Mila's Temple...

Of course. That was the main issue on her mind now, and while she was probably worried about Alm (after all Faye was just as worried, wasn't she?), finding a way to end the drought came first.

_All right, fine. No need to distract her now. It can wait a while longer... just a while longer until after we've reached the Temple._

“No, it's nothing,” she says out loud. But then, on an impulse, she stands and reaches out to grab ahold of Celica's hand.

“Faye?” Celica smiles at her, but there's still a look of confusion in her eyes. “What's the matter?”

“Celica, I just want you to know...” she pauses for a brief moment to gather her thoughts. “I'm really thankful for everything you've done for me. Letting me come with you, teaching me so many new things. Even introducing me to so many new people I never would've met if I'd just stayed in the village! So thanks. I'm really glad that you're my friend.”

_And... if it's at all possible, I don't want Alm to come between us._

Celica's smile becomes warmer and her own grip on Faye's hand tightens.

“Likewise,” she nods at Faye. “Getting to know you all over again was a lovely experience, Faye. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.”

And for a brief moment, Faye feels that all is right with the world.

(X)

The first time Faye makes a crown of flowers to give Celica, she never expects to get rejected.

The two of them had headed to Uncle Mycen's house, because that was the most likely place that she would be when she wished to be by herself and not surrounded by people asking her questions. It's already late in the evening by the time they reach, and as they enter the house she sees Uncle by the table, arms folded and keeping a close eye on the girl sitting by the fireplace.

“We're home, grandpapa!” Alm announces as Uncle Mycen catches sight of them. “And we've got a present for Celica!”

Uncle regards the two of them for a moment before he nods once. “All right. But don't take too long now. She's tired and she'll need to get some rest soon.”

That's all the prompting Faye needs to rush over to where Celica is sitting. “Hello!” she blurts out as soon as she's within earshot.

Celica is sitting curled up, knees to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. She raises her head to look at Faye as she approaches, and a frown crosses it. Faye has the slightest sense of being judged, somehow, but she shakes it off quickly. Giving her a proper welcome is more important.

“Here!” she says as she thrusts the flower crown out towards the girl. “I made this for you! Welcome to Ram!”

As she does so, she gives herself an internal nod of satisfaction. She'd judged it perfectly – the colours of the flowers on the wreath would look _great_ on top of Celica's fiery red hair. She could just imagine her looking amazingly pretty as she placed the crown on top of her head-

_smack_

The flower crown sails through the air and bounces once when it hits the ground. Brightly coloured petals scatter across the floor of Uncle's house as Faye stares, uncomprehending, at her empty hands.

“I don't want it.” Celica says, her voice quiet, and she's already turning back to fix her gaze on the roaring fire. “Go away.”

Faye blinks, and opens her mouth, but no words come out. Something's wrong with this picture, but at her age Faye has yet to come to terms with the idea that someone might _not_ want to make friends when they first meet, and all she manages after a moment is a quiet, strangled, “But – but I-”

“Hey!” Alm's already leapt to her defense and he walks up to Celica, stopping just short of an arm's length. “That's not nice! Faye put a lot of work into making that for you, you know! Don't be mean! Who do you think you are?”

Celica whirls around, and her eyes flash with something dark and scary. “Mean? Who do I think I am? What would you know about it, you... you boorish clod!” She snaps and Faye takes an involuntary step back from the venom in Celica's voice.

“Celica!” Uncle Mycen's voice is like a thunderbolt and although it's not directed at her, Faye instinctively quails in fright.

His voice has an effect on the newcomer girl as well. She pauses, swallows and makes a conscious effort to collect herself. “I believe I'm feeling tired.” She says after a moment. “Please excuse me.”

No one else moves as she turns and walks to what is presumably her room. The door is closed with a quiet but firm click, and the three of them are left to stare in silence.

After a moment, Uncle Mycen takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry about that, Faye,” he says to her. “Celica... had some family issues to deal with, and she's still a bit upset. More than a bit, really. I'd hoped that trying to give her a warm welcome would cheer her up, but...” He looks at the doorway that Celica had vanished through. “I think you'd better go home for the day. I'll make it up to you some other time, I promise.”

Faye takes one more look at the ruined flowers on the floor and blinks back hot tears that threaten to fall. She barely remembers to say goodbye to Alm before she rushes home and throws herself onto the bed, her fists clenched and body shaking.

(X)

Faye sighs as she sits up in her sleeping bag, and shakes her head at that old memory. Of all things to be dredged up, why this?

She looks up at the horizon and sees the faintest hints of the sky beginning to brighten. No sense trying to get back to sleep then. Might as well stretch her legs.

Standing, she notices that Flora is standing nearby, still fast asleep. Catria had told her that they were like horses in that regard – they needed proper sleep lying down on occasion, but otherwise they would be fine sleeping on their legs.

She tries to be quiet as she walks down the trail, but Flora shakes her head and snorts before she's taken five steps. A quiet whinny, and she's trotting along after Faye.

“You don't need to follow me, you know.” Flora simply steps even closer and nudges Faye on the shoulder. She breaks into a soft chuckle. “Okay, okay, but keep it quiet. The others need their beauty sleep.”

_Come to think of it, everyone back home is going to be **really** surprised when I come back riding a pegasus. I wonder what Alm and the others would say. _

The lookout's fire is still burning brightly and both Kamui and Deen are on guard duty. Kamui nods to her when he notices her approach, but the older swordsman pays her no heed whatsoever. Fine by her, really.

“Don't be going too far, now. We've spotted gargoyles in the area the past couple of days. No telling when one of them might decide they'd like a hunt.”

“No worries,” Faye tells him. “I'll be within eyesight at all times. I just want to take a short walk.”

More specifically, she wants to head to the meadow just off the side of the trail. She'd caught sight of it just when they had been settling there to make camp, and the sight of colourful flowers filling the field had struck her even from a single glimpse.

She wanders into the field, taking a close look at the flowers that dot the area. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders how there can still be flowers blooming so brilliantly in the middle of a drought. Maybe it was the proximity to the Earth Mother's domain?

Whatever the reason, there are flowers, and they're beautiful. She hears a crunching noise and turns to see that Flora has started grazing.

“Don't eat any of the flowers now,” she tells her pegasus. “I'll be wanting those.”

She stoops and reaches down to pluck a flower. Twisting the stem, she pulls it free of the earth. After giving it a closer look, she nods. Even in the blue gloom of the predawn, she can tell it's a pretty one.

She remembered that after that first time, Faye hadn't spoken to Celica for about a week. Part of her was afraid of being chased away again, and part of her was also quietly resentful that Alm had started spending more and more time with her. Eventually Celica had approached her and said that she was sorry for acting like a stuck up prig the first time they'd met, and would it be possible for them to start over anew?

Of course, Faye had said, and had introduced her to the game of hopscotch they were playing (after briefly goggling at the idea that Celica had apparently never even heard of hopscotch), and then it was as if their awful first meeting had never even happened.

Except, of course, that Faye hadn't made flower crowns for Celica like she'd wanted to.

Well, no time like the present. And as Faye continued to work at gathering flowers and tying them together, she wondered if Celica ever got nostalgic about such things like she did.

Well, in any case, she wouldn't have to worry about Celica slapping the flowers away again. That comforting thought in mind, Faye continues her work.

(X)

“Get back!”

“Jesse! Behind you!

“Two more coming from the left! Leon!”

“On it!”

The screech from the air alerts Faye to another incoming assault and she jumps to the side, barely avoiding the swooping slash from the gargoyle. The creature of living stone snarls at her – and then a fireball smashes into it, sending it sprawling. Before the stunned creature can recover and take to the air again, Boey has summoned two more bursts of flame that vanquishes it for good.

“Thanks!” she calls out before continuing her charge. She sees Jesse staggering, a long cut torn through his back, and her staff is raised and energy is flowing across the battlefield to him almost before she's aware of it.

A glance upwards, and she sees another trio of gargoyles taking flight from the rooftop of the temple. When Faye had first caught sight of the massive structure, she had been stunned by how damaged and worn down the holiest site in Zofia looked. Now as she scans the building her only thought is to spot the cracks and other hiding spots where more gargoyles might be lurking.

The Whitewings have already swept in to deal with the latest set of enemy reinforcements, and their movements are precise and deadly. In moments the three gargoyles are corpses and she sees Catria swing her lance to send one of the their bodies hurtling into the distance, ensuring that it doesn't fall and harm any of the fighters below them.

A roar draws her attention, and she sees yet another of the flying menaces bearing down on her. Her eyes narrow, and she raises her staff. Energy flows through it, the blessed light of the Earth Mother, now turned to harming instead of healing.

The Seraphim spell is weaker than she would have liked; her mastery of it isn't there yet and she released it too soon, but the blast of light is still gratifyingly strong and her target is sent plummeting to earth. One stone wing snaps off from the impact and she sees the scythe it carries is now broken and useless.

With a nod of satisfaction, she turns to regard the rest of the battle. Saber and Deen have led the charge up the temple steps, and are fighting their way through the barricades placed by the Duma Faithful guarding the place. They could probably use backup, and so Faye starts to rush after them -

“SKREEEEEE!” A scream sounds to her left, and too late Faye realizes the gargoyle she had left for dead is anything but. Bereft a wing, it can't fly but it leaps at her with powerful legs, and Faye is too slow to avoid it. Stone fangs close around her arm and bite down – hard.

A crunching noise and a howl of agony sounds in her ears, and it takes a moment for Faye to realize that it's her own voice making the scream. The creature's bite is vice-like, and the pain shatters her ability to focus and cast a spell to shake off the creature.

She falls backwards, and she sees the gargoyle's face, eyes glowing with an unholy malice, and she weakly tries to push the creature off, knowing that it's useless even as she does so-

_Thock!_

Suddenly an arrow is protruding from the monster's neck and it falls away, releasing Faye in the process. The gargoyle staggers, but then it rallies and opens its mouth to howl its rage again-

“SERAPHIM!”

Genny's voice sounds from behind her, and the blast of light that comes from her hand is so much more brilliant and incandescent than Faye's earlier effort. It sears straight through the gargoyle, and when the glow fades there's nothing left of the Terror but a few scattered pebbles.

Genny doesn't pay it any more attention, she's already crouching down next to Faye and reaching for the wound on her arm as Leon hurries over as well.

“Don't worry,” Genny's eyes are focused and her voice is steady even as her hands move at speed, working to peel away torn fabric and to get a better look at the wound. “It's going to be all right, Faye. Do you hear me? It'll be all right.”

And Faye can't respond, can't do anything except make pained, pathetic whimpers as each slight movement sends jolts of fiery lightning up and down her arm. Leon stands over her, keeping watch and protecting her from any other advancing monsters as Genny continues her work.

The battle rages on. And Faye can only lie on the ground, hurting and useless.

(X)

“A broken arm,” Genny confirms from the bedside. “Even with our strongest healing magic it'll be about a week until you're fully recovered.”

Faye doesn't respond immediately. She feels the weight of the cast around her arm, alien and heavy.

“So... I guess you should get some rest.” Genny's voice grows softer. “After all, we're going to be heading to Rigel soon.”

This does get Faye to respond with a long sigh. She'd heard the story in vague snippets from various people as they had talked to her after the battle, and especially when she had stood and dragged herself to the central chamber of the Temple in time to see what the fuss was all about.

Mila was gone. And according to the masked knight who had shown up before to aid Celica, she had been brought to Duma's tower in Northern Rigel.

Of course Celica would decide to chase her down. And deep inside, Faye can't blame her. The Mother's blessings were what had allowed Zofia to prosper for so long. Absent her bounty, the droughts and famines would only get worse. So doing whatever they could to bring her back was the only viable option.

And of course, Faye would be following her.

A part of her wished she was selfish enough to say that she had done her part, and to wish Celica good luck and send her on her way, but the fact of the matter is that she isn't. Even if she didn't _want_ to, she was just _willing_ enough to follow Celica into Rigel, and she can't help feeling upset at herself for that.

But if she is being honest with herself, that isn't even the biggest reason for her discontent.

“Genny...” she says without looking at her. “Did you always know?”

It takes a moment for her to respond. “Father Nomah told us. Shortly after she first arrived. He told us that it would be our duty to protect her and make sure she stayed safe... up to the day she decided to leave the priory's walls. So... yes, we knew. Me, Mae and Boey.”

Celica. _Princess_ Anthiese.

The lost princess of Zofia. Faye nearly laughs at the thought. To think that she had been at her side for so long and she'd never even suspected it! And she can't help but feel a rising indignation that Celica had wilfully kept it a secret from her for so long.

Thoughts about her unspoken request for Celica to come back to Ram for a visit plays in her mind, ringing more hollow each time she lingers on it. Faye lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and swings her legs over the side of the bed.

“Ah, you shouldn't be getting out of bed yet...”

“I won't be long,” she gives a reassuring smile to Genny. “I just want to... go get something from Flora.”

Genny acquiesces to this with a worried nod and steps back. Faye's walk is slow but sure, and in a few minutes she's blinking in the sunlight again.

It doesn't take long for her to locate Flora, and when she does, she opens up the saddle bag with her good arm and reaches inside.

Carefully, she draws out the flower crown she had made just a day ago and had kept with Flora for safekeeping.

“ _I thought you might like this, so here, Celica! I made it just for you!”_

She stares at the crown and sighs. There won't be any point in giving her this now.

After all, what's a wreath of flowers next to a circlet of woven gold?

_Nothing, that's what._

Her grip tightens, enough to crush some of the fragile flowers in her hand. And suddenly for an instant all her emotion boils over and she flings the wreath to the ground, as hard as she can.

Suddenly feeling short of breath, Faye turns and heads back inside the temple.

The second time Faye makes a crown of flowers to give Celica, she decides to destroy it instead.

 

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Note:** While the nature of Fire Emblem game mechanics means that 90% of characters will permanently shut up once they officially join the party (outside of Supports and death quotes), it also implies that everyone is 100% a-okay with the mission veering wildly off the stated course and ending up with them fighting evil empires, monsters, and insane dragon gods when they had originally set out to drive off a bunch of bandits or something.

So... what happens when someone _isn't_ entirely okay with the stated mission goals becoming vastly more difficult and time-consuming? And right at a point where she thought that they were just about to wrap everything up and she'd be able to start heading back, because she's starting to become honest-to-goodness homesick?

Well, we'll see come the next chapter.


	7. When She Followed Anthiese Into Rigel

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_When Faye was first invited to train under Uncle Mycen, she wasn't sure she really wanted to accept._

“ _Training? With swords?” She wrinkled her nose at the eager expression on Alm's face._

“ _Uh-huh! Well, that and the bow too. Tobin and Gray have been asking about getting taught for real instead of just playing around, and well, I thought you might like to join us too.”_

“ _But why?” She looked around the village square. It was as peaceful as always, people lazing and relaxing in the midday sun, the kids chasing after each other and squealing with delight. Someone's cow stoods smack dab in the middle of the square, lazily chewing its cud. “I mean, it's Ram we're talking about. Our parents have let us wander the woods almost since we could walk. There's nothing dangerous out here.”_

“ _Well, yeah, but it's not like I'm going to stay in the village forever!” The casual statement sent a twinge through Faye's heart and deepened the frown on her face. “And, yeah, it's peaceful now, true. But there's no guarantee that it'll always stay that way. You remember what happened when...” Alm trailed off, and his expression became unreadable._

_Faye nodded. There was no need to say it. They all remembered._

“ _So... do you want to join us?”_

_She resisted the urge to sigh. She knew that the excuse about danger finding them in Ram was just that. It wasn't her imagination that Alm had spent more time than ever loitering around the village gates, or that he spent evenings staring out at the horizon. He was excited that Uncle Mycen had agreed to train him because it'd bring him one step closer to his dream of leaving the village. For good? Faye didn't know. She wasn't sure she wanted to._

_But at that moment Alm was offering a way for her to spend more time with him. And so she pasted a smile on her face and nodded enthusiastically._

“ _Sure! I mean, you never know when you might need to defend yourself, right?”_

“ _You got that right! Come on, let's not keep grandfather waiting!”_

_Alm had already turned and started dashing off in the direction of his house. And Faye found herself scrambling to keep up with him._

_She couldn't say she was particularly enthused at the idea of training to fight, but it wasn't like she hated the idea either._

_And in any case, it was better than being left behind._

(X)

As the sun peeks above the horizon, Faye sits cross legged on one of the rooftop balconies of the Temple, eyes closed as she attempts to meditate and clear her mind.

The morning prayer is a ritual she's performed almost daily ever since she made the decision to walk the path of the Mila Faithful, but today clearing her mind and feeling quietly reverential is more difficult than she had expected.

Perhaps it's due to the heavy cast wrapped around her arm. The weight of it throws off her every movement and she constantly has to adjust and make allowances for the fact that she's lost the use of a limb. An unneeded distraction, definitely.

Perhaps it's due to the knowledge that Mila is gone. While the Earth Mother had always been _physically_ distant, it was always possible to take comfort in the fact that she remained in her seat of power in Mila's Temple. She was there to watch over Zofia and to ensure the wellbeing of its people. But now, with her gone... prayer and worship suddenly seemed to be hollow rituals without substance.

But she knows in her heart that it's mostly due her turmoil over Celica. Anthiese. Anytime she tries to concentrate on anything else the same unwanted thoughts resurface and suddenly she finds herself unable to focus on anything but the fact that Celi – _Anthiese_ was not who she had claimed to be. Faye frowns and bites her lip. She's tried to avoid her without looking like she's avoiding her, but with everyone making preparations to enter Rigel, they'd inadvertently crossed paths more than once over the past couple of days.

And – she's still so much like the Celica she had knows. Or thought she knew. The same mannerisms. The same friendly smiles (thought Faye can tell it's grown more guarded around her the last couple of days). The same grace and elegance in all her gestures.

But filtered through the knowledge that she is the Lost Princess, is Anthiese of Zofia, everything had changed. And Faye finds she can't dwell too long on it without feeling short of breath, without the dark pool of her resentment that lurks in her heart rippling and growing, ever so slightly.

She takes a deep breath and grimaces as she tries to force the thoughts out of her head.

“Hm? Oh, Faye!”

She opens her eyes and twists around to see Catria has emerged onto the balcony as well.

“Sorry, was I interrupting anything?”

“No, it's fine.” Faye shrugs. She hadn't been getting anywhere with her attempts at meditation, anyway, and so she stands and begins dusting herself off. “I was just finishing up my daily prayers.”

“Prayers... to Mila, you mean?”

“Yeah...” She shifted her gaze over to the rest of the temple – at the rubble strewn about and the damaged edifice. “To be honest, it feels a little strange, offering prayers to a god you know is absent.”

“Well, we consider gods as such because they have abilities far greater than us.” Catria shrugs her shoulders as she walks over to where Faye is, laying a hand on the railing of the balcony. “Perhaps she hears you still, all the way in Rigel.”

Faye doesn't think it likely at all, but she manages a smile of appreciation for Catria's attempt at encouragement. “Thanks. I hope so.”

“It's no bother.” Catria returns the smile before her expression grows thoughtful and she cups her chin. “Though I have to admit I first found it strange that Valentia's gods still dwell amongst their people.”

“Oh? That's not the case in Archanea?” She's never really thought about what the religions would be like in Catria's homeland – but of course they wouldn't worship Duma or Mila, would they? “Then how do your gods interact with their followers?”

“Well, Naga is... revered, at least. We worship her, yes – but, well, not in same way that you worship Mila. For one thing, she's long since... heh. I don't want to say 'died', but she shed her physical body a long time ago.”

“Oh, wow.” Faye feels her eyes grow wide. “Your Naga can do that? Exist purely as a spirit?”

“Well, yes. And I'm no theologian,” she folds her arms as she looks up at the sky, “but I believe that Duma and Mila would be able to do the same. They're both Divine Dragons, are they not? Naga is one too. Was one, I mean. Before she ascended. I'm not sure race or species really factors in when you no longer have physical form.” A short chuckle. “Regardless, she watches over us, and guides humanity during our darkest hours – but otherwise she doesn't take direct action that much. She doesn't bless the soil or ensure bountiful harvests like Mila does, for example.

“Huh... I didn't know that.” And suddenly Faye comes to the realization that for a supposed adherent of Mila, she knows woefully little about the god she professes to serve. “Guess I'm still pretty half-baked as a cleric, aren't I?”

“Well, in times like these I can't blame you for focusing mostly on the practical aspects of the job instead of the philosophical.” She shrugs. “After everything's calmed down you can ask Celica for more theology lessons and I'm sure she'll be happy to oblige.”

 _Celica._ The unexpected reminder brings a frown back to her face, but luckily Catria is looking out over the balcony and doesn't notice the change in her expression.

“Oh, looks like they're opening the sluice gate now. I guess they've been able to clear all the logistics involved.”

And Faye looks over as well, to see the massive structure slowly rumbling open. Even at this distance, the grinding sound of the gate sliding open is enough to set her teeth on edge.

She knows that keeping the sluice gates closed was part of some Rigelian plot and she supposes she's glad enough that it's been thwarted. But at the same time, clearing up that issue means that there's no longer any reason to keep waiting in the Temple.

“Time to go, then,” Faye murmurs, mostly to herself, trying to steel her resolve.

Rigel, and Mila, lay ahead.

(X)

Having one good arm means she can't properly tie down the bags of supplies to Flora, and naturally Anthiese volunteers to help her with that. Faye can't find any good reason to refuse and so she steps back as the princess busies herself with the job. Faye stands there, watching and stewing in her own feelings she works. She knows that if asked she won't be able to give a specific name to any of the emotions that churn in her, only that none of them are pleasant, and that they've come together to form a hard black lump in the middle of her belly.

Matters are not helped when Anthiese starts walking alongside her during their march. For the first time, her presence is uncomfortable, like an itch along her back that she can't quite reach. At first she feels grateful that Anthiese is being unusually quiet, but then she realizes it's because she's worried about Mila and then she feels guilty too about benefiting from the Mother's absence.

After a while, she just keeps her head down, tries not to think, and continues walking. It's easier that way.

It's not long before they're officially at the border that separates Zofia from Rigel – an abandoned gate in disrepair that stands at the crest of a hill. Just as Faye is about to step through the archway she hears a sound like thunder. Her gaze travels to the sky, but it's brilliant blue and there isn't a cloud in sight – and anyway there hasn't been rain for months. But if that was the case, then-

“The water!” She hears Boey shout from behind her. “It's draining!”

Her looks over to the dam, and she can see that the water level is slowly but surely receding. And at her side she hears the princess give a gasp of delight.

“Then the western gate must have been opened as well! Isn't that great, Faye?”

“I suppose.” She knows keeping the sluice gates closed was the work of Rigel. So if the gates were opened that would mean-

“Alm must have succeeded.” Anthiese has a satisfied smile on her face, and Faye finds it difficult to look at her like that. “The Deliverance must have been able to free the western gate.”

 _Alm._ Suddenly resentment spikes in her, hot and twisted. The Hero of Zofia, and the Lost Princess. Them coming together seemed like something out of the fairy tales told to her by her Nan at bedtime. It's just too perfect and Faye isn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the image. _And what chance do I have against a **princess**?_

“Well, that's great news, isn't it, your highness?” _No. Stop. You still have a chance to not ruin this._ A voice in the back of her mind urges caution and soft words. She ignores it with a recklessness born of hurt and indignation. “Alm's achieved so much, so quickly. Everyone's going to know who he is, now. Everyone's going to call him a hero.”

The cheery smile on her face doesn't waver even as Celica turns back to look at her, a question in her eyes.

“Well, I -” Anthiese smiles, but it's slow and hesitant. She can tell something is the matter, but she's also not quite sure what it is. “Yes, I suppose I am happy for him too.”

She reins in the biting remark on her tongue and continues walking. One step, two steps. And then she hears Anthiese sigh.

“And Faye? You don't need to call me 'princess' or 'your highness'. Just 'Celica' is fine.”

Faye turns back to face her, and she sees it. The golden circlet that now rests on Anthiese's head, gleaming in the bright sunlight. It's beautiful and elegant and Faye finds that she can't stand the sight of it.

“Oh, but I can't do that.” Despite the glare she's sure is showing, Faye somehow manages to keep her tone light, as if they're not doing anything more serious than discussing the weather. “After all, I respect you too much to lie to your face.”

She sees Anthiese pull short in her step as her eyes widen. And Faye isn't sure what she's supposed to feel at that moment. Vindication? Anger? Instead all she feels is the twisting in her gut get even worse. Swallowing, she lowers her head, turns away and quickens her pace. As if sensing the unease in her owner, Flora begins to trot faster as well.

“Faye...” Behind her, Anthiese's voice fades away into a hurt, confused silence. Faye continues walking. She doesn't look back.

(X)

That night is the first one spent in Rigel, and Faye notes unhappily that it's gotten colder the farther north they go. She still can't help with any of the actual setting up of the tents and so she sits at the periphery of the campfire, huddled under her cloak and trying not to think about being useless and a burden on the party.

“Faye?” The voice comes from behind her and she resists the urge to sigh. She turns to see Anthiese standing behind her. She's massaging her right hand again, and her expression is worried.

“... What is it?” She supposes she'd been expecting this. Anthiese would have wanted to talk to Faye about it, even if Faye didn't, and with everyone else busy with preparations, this is probably the closest they'll get to any real privacy.

“I... wanted to check up on you.” The princess' voice is still hesitant, as if she's in the dark and wants to proceed as slowly as possible lest she upset something.

She can't know (or refuses to know?) that her mere presence is already damaging enough.

“... My arm's healing well. I should be able to remove the cast in a couple of days according to Genny,” she says. It's a weak deflection and they both know it.

_Go away. Please. Just go before I end up saying something I'll regret._

“That's good to hear, but... that wasn't really what I had in mind.” There's the creak of wood as Anthiese settles herself on the stool next to Faye. “I wanted to ask you about this morning. About... what you said.”

She remains silent and continues to stare at the crackling flames.

“When you said that you didn't want to lie to me... about me being Celica...”

“What is there to explain?” Faye feels her body tremble with tension, and she draws her arms around herself, her good hand clutching at her arm. “I mean what I said.”

“Faye-”

“Celica is a _lie._ ” The words come out of her in a rush, all at once. “All this time, the person I _thought_ I knew, didn't really exist.”

“What? That's not-”

“That's not true?” Faye clenches her jaw as she stands. “Celica wouldn't have needed to leave Ram because some soldiers happened to run into her. But _Pr_ _incess_ _Anthiese_ did, because she needed to keep hidden. So what is Celica, aside from a cover you used in order to protect yourself?”

Anthiese stands as well, and she sees her take several deep breaths to calm herself before speaking. “I understand you're upset that I lied to you. And – you have every right to be. But don't you think claiming that means _everything_ was a lie is a little much? Even if the name wasn't real, even if I was forced to cover up my birth, does that erase all the time we spent together, Faye? Not just in Ram, but this journey too! All those talks we had, all the things I taught you. The journey we made together...” Her voice had grown softer now, almost pleading. “Do those not matter? Does our _friendship_ count for nothing now? Because I did it as Celica, and not Anthiese?”

For a moment, Faye hesitates. She can tell when an olive branch is being offered. This is a chance to reach out, to try and reconcile.

A chance to go back to the way things were before.

She swallows hard and rejects it. “I don't know, you tell me. After this whole mess, what is _Celica_ going to do? Will she return to the priory?” She laughs once, a sad, empty sound. “Maybe go back to Ram instead? Or is Princess Anthiese going to return to the castle and reign as the new queen of Zofia?”

“Faye, that's not...” A frown crosses the princess' face, and the words she'd wanted to say die on her tongue.

“It'd be a nice end to the whole tale, wouldn't it?” Faye sits down again and keeps her eyes fixed on the crackling flames. She doesn't bother trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice; she knows she wouldn't succeed anyway. “The lost princess everyone thought dead miraculously returns to reclaim the crown. And I guess she'll marry the champion who defeated the usurpers and drove Rigel out of the country. I'm sure the commoners would love that.”

For a moment, silence. Faye can only guess what is going through her mind.

Finally, Anthiese speaks, in a voice that is soft and weary. “Perhaps you're right. I never thought of it that way, but I can see how someone would see it as me lying to others for years. But, you know, Faye? Even if it was a lie, it was a lie that I wanted to be true.”

The words startle Faye and she turns to see Anthiese has already turned and begun walking back towards her tent. But for a moment, in the light given off by the fire, she sees the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Alone once more, Faye suddenly realizes just how drained she feels. Drained in the unique way that happens when anger burns itself out, leaving her dry and hollow. She takes a deep breath and continues to sit with only the chaos of her thoughts for company.

(X)

Two days later, Faye has healed enough that the cast can be removed. Genny dutifully helps her with the process, and when it's off she cautions that she still shouldn't put too much strain on the arm for another couple of days. Faye thanks her and tries to ignore the look in the younger cleric's eyes.

She's upset at her. They all are, she supposes, but it's most obvious in the members of the priory. And it's not at all difficult to guess the reason. The tension in the air between her and Anthiese is thick enough to cut with a knife.

It's not like she's tried to start any more arguments with her, and to be honest seeing the princess no longer causes her to tense up or her stomach to churn. Instead a weight just settles on her shoulders and she feels ever more weary as she trudges on.

The earth around them changes the further north they go. Grasses and wildflowers gradually give way to barren, rocky soil. The air grows damp and stale as they move onward, and the fog comes in ever thicker. Swamps filled with fetid water begin to appear, first in small pockets along the main road and then in increasingly large pools, until it's the solid ground that shrinks to isolated islands and the whole party has to work together carefully to make their way through the bog.

 _So this is Rigel._ Faye thinks as she takes stock of the dismal landscape. She'd thought the fields around Ram had looked withered and barren after the drought, but this is on a whole different level. A place like this seems incapable of supporting human life at all.

 _Is this what living under Duma is like? Why would anyone choose his path in that case?_ In happier times, she might have brought this question up with Cel – with Anthiese. But she knows that's not an option now.

The only option is to keep moving forward. During the few hours of feeble daylight, they march as fast as their bodies will allow. During the harsh nights, Faye lies huddled up, cold and alone, dreaming of summer days in Ram.

One week after crossing the border, Faye decides to take to the skies on Flora while keeping her eyes peeled on the ground below them. The fog isn't as thick today, which she supposes is a blessing. She's not officially scouting or anything, but if she's in the air, she might as well keep an eye out for any information that might prove useful.

Up ahead, she spots a swamp – and it's huge, a vast discoloured wound on the landscape. And at the far end, she sees movement. People, and a lot of them. She can't discern any specifics about the enemy army, but at the same time she knows that going any closer will allow them to spot her too, and then arrows will start flying. She's not like Catria or Est – she'll be a sitting duck for enemy archers.

“Come on, Flora. We're heading back.” Her pegasus tosses her head in acknowledgement and swoops around.

Her report about what awaits them ahead is met with looks of grim determination. She knows they've been lucky so far to have not met any real resistance – just a few scattered Terrors. That lucky streak looks to be coming to an end, and so Faye grabs her staff, whispering a prayer as she does so.

_For the Mother. For everyone waiting back home._

_For Alm._

She raises her head and sees Anthiese walking ahead of the party, blade already drawn. Her eyes are fixed on the horizon, her gaze purposeful.

Faye closes her eyes and releases a long breath.

_For... Princess Anthiese._

As they round the crest of the hill, she sees the soldiers arrayed against them, and she realizes why they had set up camp at the far end of the swamp. The water forms a natural barrier that will bog them down as they try to approach, and she can see the gargoyles already hovering in the air, ready to spring on them the instant they get within range. She feels a dull ache travel up her arm and grits her teeth. This encounter won't go the same way.

This time, no words are exchanged, no attempt from Anthiese to parley. Faye can only wonder if it's the act of stealing the Earth Mother that has made her uninterested in trying to talk, or if she simply knows the Duma Faithful will not be amenable to discussion.

For whatever reason, upon catching sight of each other, there is only the brandishing of weapons, and the charge forward.

Ahead of her, she sees Saber charging through the murky waters. As it splashes up around him and he moves deeper and deeper into the swamp, the gargoyles screech and bear down on him – only for the Whitewings to intercept, providing a shield of wings and spears against the vulnerable, landlocked members.

“Faye, go!” She sees Leon, astride a warhorse now. She vaguely remembers that he'd found one to his liking at the Temple, and he fires arrows at the soldiers on the far end with the same deftness and accuracy as when he had been footbound. “I'll cover you!”

“Right!” She begins splashing through the swampy mess as well, feeling mud churn around her boots as she focuses on getting to the other side as soon as possible. She can see them in the distance – the enemy commander and the fresh set of gargoyles he's summoning. She bites her lip and adjusts course slightly, angling towards him.

A cry of pain – she senses Boey's spiritual signature flickering and raises her staff without bothering to look in his direction. The healing energy travels through the air, and she pauses midstride – nods. She can feel he's healthy again and so she continues to move.

She's almost on solid ground again – in the shallows of the large swamp they're fighting their way through, when a dark blur leaps at her. She has time to catch sight of the flash of his blade and she ducks out of the way of the soldier. She stumbles forward, knowing that he's behind her and most likely already wheeling around to strike at her again.

Drawing in a deep breath, she strikes the ground ahead of her with her staff. A flash of white, and Valbar appears at her side, spear already swinging in a wide arc. Caught completely by surprise, the soldier who had targeted her is sent flying. He splashes into the muddy earth and does not rise again.

Faye releases her breath in a sigh and the two of them share a nod. This was a plan that they had worked on during the long days of marching. Valbar's heavy armour weighed him down too much to traverse the swamps safely, and so they had settled on using Faye's ability to call people to her side as a makeshift way to bring Valbar along. When that proposition had first been floated by Leon during one of their campfire meetings, Faye had quietly assented – if nothing else, it let her practice the spell, and get used to the cost in energy when she cast it.

More shouts alert them to approaching members of the Duma Faithful, and Valbar quickly switches his attention towards them. Now that he doesn't need to worry about the depths of the bogs, he's in his element and he charges the foes, scattering them in his wake.

Another deep breath. Faye moves to follow him-

“SCREEE!” A gargoyle charges her from the sky. Moving by instinct, Faye throws herself to the side, blasting it with a Nosferatu spell even as she dodges. The creaure is weaker than most or her blast is stronger than she had anticipated – either way, it disintegrates in midair, stone fragments raining onto the swampy water around her.

The combination of casting several spells in a row catches up to Faye all of a sudden, and she staggers. Using her staff as a support, she leans forward, trying to catch her breath.

Movement. A flash of red.

Her head snaps up and she sees a man in the colours of the Duma Faithful facing her, bow taut and arrow ready to fire. Instinct takes over and she twists as something blurs past her – and a stripe of pain lances across her right forearm.

He's come shockingly close to her for an archer; most likely he had been attempting to do as Leon was doing and snipe those on the far shore and – simply not noticed her until she was practically on top of him. She sees him reach back for his quiver of arrows, and once again instinct takes over.

 _He's gotten too close._ She leaps at him, and the sight of a staff-wielder engaging in physical combat is unexpected enough that she's able to close the gap before he can react. She swings the blunt end of her rod up – it connects with his chest and sends him staggering backwards.

She moves forward, ready to finish him off – and as the archer looks up at her with panicked eyes –

She freezes.

He's young. Most likely younger than she is. And with those wide eyes and messy brown hair, he reminds her of a younger Tobin-

Suddenly, a flash of silver, and Faye realizes too late that his stumbling was cover for him to draw a dagger from his boot. She evades the wild strike – barely.

They're in close now, and one wrong move will result in a blade buried in her gut. But he's not an experienced knife-fighter either, and as he lunges at her, Faye realizes that he's left himself open.

_Listen up. A knife isn't a sword. It's faster and you can strike quicker with it. But there's going to be less force behind your blows. And just as importantly – less reach._

She moves in. Grabs his knife arm with her left hand. And pulls hard.

_Elbows are like clubs that happen to be attached to your body. It's not going to beat plate mail or even most leather armour, but if there's a vulnerable spot, an elbow to it is almost as good as a sword's pommel._

As he stumbles, she swings her right elbow up, feels it connect with the boy's neck, and his head snaps back. Seizing the advantage, she pushes, and both of them splash down in the murky shallows. Her staff clatters against a rock and falls, forgotten.

_Keep your foe disoriented. If he's distracted he's not paying attention to you and whatever it is you're doing. And that may just give you the opening you need._

He flails with his knife, and she feels a fiery line travel up her neck and cheek. She tightens her left hand's grip on his arm, tries to make sure he can't do that again while her right grabs at his head and – shoves it under the water.

The water is dark and choked with vile substances she doesn't want to know about, and for one crucial second, he's not attacking her or trying to wrench his knife arm free of her grasp. He writhes under her, and her grip on his face tightens as she concentrates and weaves a spell.

_If an enemy surrenders to you, honour and decency demands you accept it and then treat them well. Up to that point, if you see an opportunity to put a foe down – take it. Show no mercy because in a real fight, you won't receive any either._

“Nosferatu.” Faye breathes out the word so softly she's almost not sure if she actually said it or not. But the surge of energy from her hand is unmistakeable – as is the sensation of the body jerking and convulsing under her.

And then the boy goes still. The hand she clutches now hangs limp as the dagger falls into the water with a wet plop.

A moment later, bubbles break free to the surface – the last breath of air escaping the corpse's lungs.

Suddenly Faye realizes she is trembling. She wrenches herself free – almost falls on her back as she stumbles. She tries to stand – tries to rejoin the rest of the group, wherever they may be. But she feels her knees give way under her and she collapses on all fours, fetid waters splashing around her again.

She crawls like a wounded animal, her only thought to get _away._ Finally she makes it onto dry land. She looks up long enough to confirm that the battle is over before she pulls herself into something resembling a sitting position.

Alone, sprawled out under a grey sky in an alien land, soaked, freezing and covered in mud and blood, unsure of what she's even _doing_ here anymore, Faye lowers her head and begins to cry.

(X)

“ _Ow, ow, ow.” Tobin winced in pain as he gingerly prodded his shoulder. “Did you really have to hit me so hard?”_

“ _You left yourself open.” Faye shrugged as she carefully leaned the training sword against the rack. “And I had to move quickly to take advantage of that. Don't blame me that a quick strike makes for a powerful strike too.”_

“ _Ooh, I'm gonna feel this in the morning.” Tobin's complaints continued as Faye resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “This better not interfere with archery practice tomorrow!”_

“ _If you find practice with a bow more important than your sword training, then why don't you devote yourself exclusively to it?” Kliff didn't look up from the book he was reading, but the quirked eyebrow and tiny smirk was enough to indicate his amusement. “After all, that's what I did when I started studying magic.”_

“ _Aw, you're just mad all of us kept beating you in sparring matches.” Tobin laughed. “And anyway! I figure I should be an all-rounder type, you know? A weapon for every situation!”_

“ _Yes, well, I believe the term 'jack of all trades' applies in that case. Now what was the second half of that phrase?”_

“ _Wha – hey!”_

_Faye folded her arms and leaned against the tree as she watched her friends bicker. Silently, she recounted the records of their regular sparring sessions. She was about even with Tobin in terms of wins and losses – as said earlier she'd started beating Kliff regularly shortly before he started focusing more on the arcane. And Tobin was kind of the same, she supposed, ever since he'd started spending more time with the bow._

_She hadn't beaten Gray ever since he'd started making trips out beyond the village to the town. She supposed that their play-fights would never hold a candle to getting engaged in real battles against bandits. Before that they had an almost even record._

_And of course she'd never beaten Alm even once in their five years of training under Uncle Mycen._

_Well, that was fine, she supposed. It wasn't like this was anything more than practice for something that was never going to happen._

_They would never end up in a real fight... right?_

“ _Hey...” She began, her voice hesitant. “You think we'll ever end up in a real war?”_

“ _Huh?” Tobin looked at her, eyebrow raised. “Where'd that come from all of a sudden?”_

“ _Well, it's just...” Faye shrugged. “Uncle Mycen's trained all of us, right? And Alm, especially. He keeps pushing Alm harder and harder – he's forcing him to learn military tactics and all that instead of just training him to fight. But... it's not like he's actually going to use any of that, right? So isn't that sort of a waste of time?”_

_Her friends traded glances among themselves, a far cry from the laugh and reassurances that she had expected – hoped for._

“ _Well...” Gray began, looking apologetic. “I've already had to use the skills Sir Mycen taught me in a real fight. Every time I leave the village, as a matter of fact.”_

“ _But those are just bandits, right?” Faye swallowed and licked her lips. “Yeah, I mean, we might have to fight bandits one day, but – nothing like a real war, right?”_

_This time it was Kliff who responded without looking up from his book. “Faye. I know you don't really care about what happens beyond the village walls, but surely even you must have heard that Rigel's been making more and more incursions into Zofian territory of late.”_

“ _But – that won't...” She bit her lip, worrying at it, and the topic, like a dog with a bone. “It won't... war won't come to Ram... it can't. It just can't.”_

“ _Sure, that's a possibility.” Gray snorted, his smile sardonic. “Tiny little village you have to go off the edge of the map to find, like us? Rigel could burn down Zofia Castle and the only real change here is that we start accepting Rigelian marks for our wine.” Then his expression grew serious. “But even if war doesn't come to Ram Village... we might get called up to it instead. And you know Alm won't be able to sit still if he hears the incursions become a full blown invasion.”_

_It was exactly what she didn't want to hear at that moment, and she hung her head in defeat._

_The mood had turned sour and Faye knew it was partly her fault. She bid her friends farewell and goodnight, and later spent a restless night dreaming of flames, and screams, and blood._

(X)

“Oh, you're awake.” Leon's voice sounds cheerful, and in Faye's opinion it's badly incongruous with the dreary landscape around them. “I thought you'd still be resting.”

“I'm fine,” Faye says and leaves it that. Leon doesn't need to know that her sleep was filled with nightmares of nameless dread and shadowy horrors that she can no longer properly recall. Instead she walks over to join him – he's settled himself by a gnarled, twisted tree trunk, and is restringing his bow.

For a moment, the two sit in silence, Leon continuing to work and Faye simply staring out at the evening sky. The sunlight peeks in through gaps in the blanket of clouds, and Faye shivers under her cape as the wind picks up again.

“So,” Leon begins after a long moment. “I take it the cold isn't to your liking.”

“I'm not used to it. It's nothing at all like Ram.” Faye looks at the ground around here. It was actually one of the more pleasant spots they had run into ever since entering Rigel proper, which said more about the rest of the country than anything else. Grasses grew tall around them, and she could even see a white flower or two poking their heads up throughout the small field. “Not just the cold, I guess. The whole... everything here.”

“Haahh. Tell me about it.” Leon's sigh is frustrated as he puts his bow down and looks out over the tortured landscape as well. “First I get stuck on a boat where I get sunburned and seasick, and then I get marched out to the desert where I nearly end up a dried out husk – and now! Straight into the heart of Rigel's swamplands! I swear I need to wring my hair out just by walking around this fog. This place is going to _ruin_ my complexion, I just know it.”

Leon's complaints seem so mundane in comparison to her own darker musings that Faye can't help herself. She laughs, and she surprises herself with how merry and bright a sound she makes.

“Oh sure, laugh it up.” Leon's smile is crooked to show he doesn't feel any real ire. “You may look as pretty as a picture now, but don't expect it to last. Youth fades, and quicker than you'd think”

“Aren't you only twenty five?”

“Twenty- _four_.” Leon's voice is prim as he corrects her. “Practically one foot in the grave already. So, heed the words of this ancient crone and enjoy your stunning good looks while you can, hm?”

Faye rolls her eyes and hugs her knees closer to her chest. “Stunning good looks? Please.”

“What, you don't think so? Anyone who can trek through this hellhole and come out looking as good as you do deserves an award of some kind.”

“Heh...” Her laugh is sadder now. “Hellhole, huh? That's some way to describe it.”

“Well, if only by comparison. But yes, of all the places Lady Celica has dragged me out to during this little road trip, the swamps of Rigel is by _far_ the worst.”

“Dragged you out to?” Faye looks over at Leon. He's sitting back now, his posture relaxed and looking at her with a friendly gaze. “Come to think of it, I never heard how you ended up joining with Cel... with the princess.”

“Oh, it just happened. We were in a bit of a rough fight, and the priestess' little entourage showed up in time to help us out. After that I suppose we owed her a debt of gratitude, and Valbar threw his lot in with her. And I'm sure you know by now that where Valbar goes, I go.”

“... So you've no personal loyalty to her or anything then?”

“ _Wow._ Talk about your loaded questions.” Leon raises an eyebrow. “But before I answer that, let me ask you one of mine. Do you not want to be here, Faye?”

Faye's jaw snaps shut and she wonders if she's said too much, given too much away. Her thoughts regarding Anthiese are still a muddled mess and she's not sure she has the energy or even the desire to set about unravelling all the knots.

The eyes of the enemy – the soldier, the boy – she had killed appear in her memory, and she purses her lips, tries to dismiss it.

“I... miss home.” She finally says. That's true, and close enough to the heart of the reason that its something she feels like she can say without revealing too much. “When I first set out I never expected to end up in the middle of the empire. Ram might as well be on another continent now.”

“Home, hm?” Leon closes his eyes and nods. “I have to admit I don't remember much of that place when we first picked you up. But I do recall it was a pleasant little hamlet. Certainly a good deal nicer than _here_ , I'll give you that.”

“I guess I'm struggling,” she admits, “to find the motivation to go on. I know that saving the Mother should be a good enough reason to do this, but sometimes I just... don't want to get out of bed, even. I shouldn't feel like this but-”

“Stop right there. People _feel_ lots of things, Faye. People can _feel_ selfish, grumpy, irritable, depressed, and any other number of unpleasant adjectives, for all sorts of reasons. If you're upset, you're upset. Don't blame yourself for that. You're better off trying to figure out what's the driving force behind those feelings instead.”

She remains silent and stares out at the sky. What Leon says makes sense, and she even vaguely knows where the source of her discontent lies, but... to look directly at it, face it and deal with... it's too daunting a task for her.

“Also... in response to your earlier question. Personal loyalty? Well, that's to Valbar first and foremost, of course. But I've had plenty of time to observe the princess during our journey – and she's someone I'd happily swear fealty to as a knight. She has a good heart that wants to right the world's wrongs – and shoulders that are willing to bear the weight of the world's burdens. She's a good person. At the end of the day, that's what counts. And that's why I'd agree to follow her on this little journey.”

Leon is right. She knows he is, but thinking about it that way sours her heart. _What's wrong with me? Why is it so hard for me to just... accept her? Accept the truth?_

She hears a rustling sound from beside her as Leon stands.

“The world is filled with wonderful, lovable people, Faye. People like Valbar... and people like you.” Leon leans down next to her, and she feels something being tucked into her hair, just above her ear. “And that's motivation enough for me to do whatever I can to save it.”

Faye feels a slight flush come to her cheek from the unexpected compliment. She twists, reaching up for whatever it is that Leon has placed there – and her hand comes away with a single delicate flower – one of the few that dots the grove they're sitting in.

“Leon...” she twirls the flower stalk in her hand for a moment, observing the small white petals. She musters a smile, even though she still feels a deep sense of melancholy. “Thanks. You're right. I'll... keep that in mind.”

“That's all we can ask for. Come on, then. It looks like they're getting the campfire set up, and I don't know about you, but I'll be happy for anything that can chase away this damp.”

(X)

“Genny?” As Faye opens the flap to her friend's tent, she sees the cleric has her head buried in a book. “Sorry, are you busy?”

“It's fine.” Placing a bookmark on the page, Genny looks up at her. “What do you need?”

“I was wondering... could you help me with practising the Seraphim spell? I don't think I have the hang of it quite yet.”

She can see her friend's expression grow wary. “... Why don't you ask Celica?” she asks, after a moment. “Hasn't she been your teacher all this while?”

Faye finds that she is averting her gaze. Several responses float up in her mind like bubbles, taking shape for a brief moment before bursting into nothing.

They both know the real reason Faye's come to her instead of Anthiese, anway.

Genny takes a deep breath and closes the book she was writing in. “Faye, I know it's not nice to feel like you've been lied to, but... did it really damage your trust in her _that_ badly?”

She supposes she knew that coming to Genny would result in this conversation. Genny always seemed meek in most matters, but she also wasn't going to let an issue like this stand.

“We actually had a talk about it,” Genny says without lifting her gaze from the worn cover of the book. “Just the other night. You know Mae is really upset with the way you've been giving Celica the cold shoulder? She almost confronted you directly about it. Boey and I managed to convince her that you _do_ have reason to be unhappy, so she's backed off for now. But she still thinks you're not taking this as gracefully as you should.” A pause, and her shoulders slump. “And, well, I think I agree with her.”

“It's... not like that.” One hand goes behind her back to clutch at the other arm. “It's... different. You all wouldn't understand.”

“Wouldn't understand?” Genny is frowning now. “Celica is our friend, Faye! We've known her for years-”

“And you've known her secret for years too!” Her voice comes out louder than she had expected, and she sees Genny wince. “Everyone on this journey either knew already or joined up with her only recently. I'm the only one who – I thought I _knew_ her. I thought I knew the quiet girl who made friends with me all those years ago.”

Genny is silent.

“So maybe I'm selfish. Yes, trying to help Mila and fighting off bandits are great causes, but I'd never have left the village just for that! I left Ram because of Celica! Because she was my friend! And now I find out she isn't real? How am I supposed to just be okay with that?” Her voice had grown softer as she continued to speak, and she breaks off, panting hard and feeling the familiar prickle in her eyes that tells of oncoming tears.

Genny takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. When she speaks again, her tone is soft and her words come slowly, like she's being careful to pick each one out. “Have you ever heard of the Novis Ocean Harvest Festival?”

Faye frowns. “What does that have to do with-?”

“Please just hear me out. It's a big celebration we hold down in Novis every year two weeks after the spring Equinox, to give thanks for the ocean's bounty. People would spend all year preparing for it. The celebrations last a week and there would be boating races and competitions to see who could catch the biggest fish. They'd hire performers to come from the mainland, and there'd be a new show every day. They'd make the local speciality – fish dumplings dipped in gravy and oh, they were delicious. It's no exaggeration to say the Harvest Festival was the highlight of the year.”

“I... guess I know what you mean?” She still doesn't really see where Genny is going with this. “Ram has its share of festivals too – especially around the grape harvest. But, what does this-”

“Celica was never allowed to go,” Genny says matter-of-factly.

“... What?”

“She was almost never allowed to leave the priory at all, and definitely not when there was the possibility of big crowds at the port. If just one person there happened to work for the royal family, happened to know what the princess looked like and caught sight of her – then her secret would come out. And Celica would lose the last refuge she had.”

"That's..." Faye trails off.

“She understood the reasoning behind it. We all did, and we tried to bring as much of the festival to her as we could. I remember when we filled our bags with as many gifts and snacks as we could carry before heading back to share it with her.” Genny smiles as she digs into her memory. “Celica never complained, but... for many years, the priory's walls might as well have been her entire world. In its own way, it was a cage. One she entered willingly, but still a cage.

“And that's why.” Genny's voice is soft, and her smile is now rueful. “When you say you're upset or unhappy that Celica kept her secret from you, we can't help but feel indignant on her behalf. Keeping that secret may have hurt you, but it's always hurt Celica most of all.”

Silence again. Faye lowers her head, feeling her heart beat faster in her chest. She'd never really desired to leave Ram, but not to even be given the chance? To be excluded from the festivities, unable to do more than look at the lights and listen to the sounds of celebrations from her window? Faye bites her lip as she feels a hot wave of – shame? Distress? She can't tell – sweep over her.

“Come to think of it, that's probably the reason.” Genny's voice breaks into her thoughts.

“Reason? For what?”

“Ram is so isolated, almost no one heads there.” A sigh. “That's honestly a better place to hide than Novis. That's probably why her guardian felt safer with letting her run around and mingle freely with everyone.

“She told us once. It was a dark, lonely night when a storm hit the island, so we were all sitting around a fire sharing stories. Celica told us... her days in Ram were short, but they were the happiest days of her life. When she didn't need to worry about hiding. When she could just be... Celica.”

“ _Even if it was a lie, it was a lie that I wanted to be true.”_

Faye is lost in her own thoughts and her sudden realization, and she almost misses the sound of Genny rifling through her books and laying one on the table with a soft thump.

She looks up and sees her friend smiling at her.

“I'll help you practice the Seraphim spell if you still want. It's the least I can do for a friend. But in return... I know hurts don't always go away just like that. But please... think long and hard about it, okay? Your friendship is precious – I don't think you should let it be broken so easily.”

“I...” She takes a deep breath. The chaotic swirl of her emotions hasn't subsided much, but hearing Genny explain her view has given her a bit of clarity. A bit of perspective. “Thanks, Genny. For everything.”

“Anytime.” The cleric beams at her, and Faye finds herself smiling back. “After all, what are friends for?”

(X)

“ _Faye.”_

_She glanced up, distracted from picking at the scab that had formed on her right arm. “Uncle Mycen? What is it? Are you looking for my mom? I'll go call her-”_

“ _No, you're just the person I was looking for, actually.”_

“ _Oh? Uh... what did I do? If it's about the flower vase, that was Gray's fault! I swear!”_

“ _No, it's not about the – wait, you know who broke the vase? Why didn't you say-” He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head once. “No, never mind. We can discuss that later. Faye, it's about your training.”_

“ _Oh...” Suddenly she felt like she was all out of things to say._

“ _Faye, it's been about a month since you started training with me.”_

“ _Uh-huh.” She nodded quickly. “I'm... not doing that badly, am I?” Sure, she didn't think she was doing spectacularly either, but to be honest it was kind of hard to judge. She knew Kliff got tired the easiest out of them, but he was three years younger than every else, and Uncle Mycen was still going easy on him._

“ _Not exactly, no.” Uncle folded her arms and looked down at her. “It's just... do you have a reason to be doing this, Faye?”_

_The question brought Faye up short. “A – a reason?” And to be honest, she didn't. Not really. She hadn't thought she'd need one for something like this._

“ _You don't seem to be enjoying the drills I give you. You're forcing yourself through them just because.”_

“ _But – but Gray and Tobin never stop complaining either! Why single me out?”_

“ _Yes, I am well aware of the boys' capacity for ceaseless chatter.” He settled himself on the wooden bench beside the younger girl with an 'oof' and fixed his keen gaze on her.. “But they've a real interest in bettering their abilities and you can see it in their eyes. No doubt they've some fool dream of heading out into the world and using their skills in battle to make their fortunes._

“ _But what about you, Faye? You don't talk and you don't complain. But it's also plain as day you're just forcing yourself to go through the motions. Why come to me, day after day, to partake in something you don't care about?”_

_She looked away. How to tell her Uncle that she only did this because she wanted to spend more time with Alm? He had been more and more focused on becoming stronger lately, and if she cut herself off from training, that was a large chunk of the day where he wouldn't be available._

“ _... Are you going to make me stop?”_

“ _I don't want any unwilling students. And if it's just that you want to be near Alm you can feel free to sit at the sidelines and cheer him on.”_

_She winced. So Uncle had noticed. Well, of course he had. He always seemed to notice the little things that everyone else missed. So there was nothing to hide in that case. Then what else was there to say?_

_A long silence. Then-_

“ _You don't need to answer right away.” His gruff voice was softer now as he patted her shoulder. “Think about it. Think if there's something or someone you really want to become stronger for. And when you find your answer, come to me again and I'll gladly train you then.”_

_His speech finished, Uncle pushed himself back to his feet and began heading back towards his house._

(X)

The next morning, Faye rises before the dawn. She's dressed and ready to march, staff in hand, almost before any one else pokes their head out of the tent.

It's easier to wake up early than to go back and face the nightmares.

As they march, she catches sight of Anthiese at the head of the party and she begins to quicken her pace, trying to catch up with her.

She's still not sure what she wants to say to her, but something in her presses her on. Looking at her makes her feel upset all over again – except this time she can't really tell if it's Anthiese or herself that she's unhappy at.

She barely takes two steps before she hears it, though. They all do.

A deep, sonorous growl that seems to come from just ahead. Faye frowns, quickens her pace as they ascend the latest hill-

Ahead of them is another swampland. Broken gravestones line the few patches of dry land she can see, but the area all around them is teeming with-

“Necrodragons.” She hears Deen's growl as he steps to the front, his blade already drawn.

“There's so many of them...” At her side, Genny's grip on her staff tightens. And then she looks over her shoulder. “Er... Boey, are you okay?”

“Fine. Just... fine.” Faye suddenly notices Boey's eyes are wide – almost unnaturally so, and his fingers are clenched very tightly onto his folded arms. “A Terror's a Terror... it'll go down once you shoot enough fire at it, right?”

Any reply they would have made is drowned out by a roar – the necrodragons have spotted them as well and they're now rushing towards them. Faye lets her gaze sweep the battlefield – she counts about a dozen of the massive creatures, all told.

Not good odds.

Their one advantage is that bereft of any Cantors to act as a commander, the Terrors are little more than mindless beasts that simply charge at their targets. That gives the spellcasters – and Leon – plenty of time to fire into the enemy ranks, whittling down the numbers as much as they can before they get in range of their teeth and claws.

But dragons are hardy creatures, and undead ones are little different. Soon battle is joined.

As she rushes to provide aid, Faye can't help feeling grateful. For her, it's still easier to fight against monsters and Terrors than people. She doesn't want that to change.

Deen and Sonya have teamed up to take on a dragon together. She can't remember them exchanging a word ever since they've joined the party, but it's obvious they're used to working together in combat. Sonya's wind blasts cover Deen, buffeting the dragon and preventing it from striking the swordfighter as his blade flashes and bites deep into the monster's scaly hide.

Suddenly, he jumps – and the air around him swirls with force, propelling him higher than should be possible for a normal human. As he comes up to the dragon's head, he brings his blade down in a mighty two-handed swing.

A spray of blood, an inhuman shriek, and the creature topples with a sound like a fallen tree. Deen lands in a crouch, and gives a brief nod of thanks in Sonya's direction before he turns to seek out new foes.

A shadow passes over Faye and she whirls, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of a dragon that had somehow managed to sneak up on her. _How does something so big move so quickly and so quietly?_

This particular Necrodragon seems bigger than the others, and if anything it's in an even worse state of decay – with rotten flesh sloughing off its sides and broken scales littering the ground in its wake. It opens its mouth to roar at her, and Faye unhappily notes that its teeth appear to still be sharp. Just her luck.

It lunges at her, and Faye is forced back. She raises her hand, takes a deep breath and prepares to cast.

She'd worked on this yesterday. She had studied and practised alongside Genny until her arms and eyes ached with strain.

She could do this.

One more step backwards – and Faye's eyes widen as she feels the soft mud give way under her feet.

A mistake. A stupid, foolish mistake. She had assumed the ground around her would be firm – but of course they were in the middle of a swamp, and the footing would be treacherous.

She slips – stumbles, and manages to regain her footing after a moment.

It's a moment she can't afford.

The necrodragon lunges, and its vast, gaping maw fills her vision. Time seems to slow down, and she swears she can see every strand of hot, viscous drool dangling from its jaws, see the flecks of dark blood that coats the creature's fangs. She starts to raise her arm in an instinctive warding gesture, knowing that's useless even as she does so.

And then, from her side, a flash of white. And Faye sees the princess jump up at the creature, palms glowing blindingly white with power.

“ **RAGNAROK!** ” The spell – the strongest one in the princess' arsenal – is released at point blank range. The explosion tears straight through the dragon's long neck – and the monster is decapitated in a shower of gore. The heads flies into the distance, thudding down harmlessly several meters away while the dragon's body crashes into the ground. One great wing jerks and flaps once, and then it is still.

It takes a long moment for Faye to register that she's still alive, and then another one to realize that the princess – Celica – is lying back on the ground, her face screwed up in pain.

“Celica!” Faye blurts out without thinking, and already she's running over to her friend. “Hang on!” She raises her staff, prepares to cast a spell of healing-

And then a roar as one of the last remaining necrodragons charges the collapsed princess. Faye's eyes widen, then narrow.

She has time for only one spell.

And that's enough.

“Seraphim!” Light gathers in the tip of her staff, a blaze of holy energy that acts as the purifying counter to the darkness that animates the Terrors. She focuses, launches it – and her aim is true.

The blast of light carves away the entire right sight of the Necrodragon's face, and the monster convulses. It's still alive, but her spell has forced it to break off its charge. And before it can recover, Mae and Boey's own flurry of spells bring the beast down for good.

Meanwhile, Faye stumbles over to Celica, the light in her staff now changing to the soothing green glow of healing.

“Hang on, I'll have you right as rain in no time at-” She's cut off by a soft murmur.

“You...” Celica seems dazed. A combination of energy needed to cast such a potent spell and the backlash of casting it at such close range has left her momentarily stunned. Yet she has a smile on her face, and it seems strangely at odds with the situation.

“Huh? Me?” Faye blinks.

“You... called me Celica.”

Faye blinks and looks away. “Well... yeah. I suppose I did.”

No more words are exchanged as Faye quickly heals Celica, and then offers a hand to help her back to her feet.

(X)

It's evening by the time Faye finds Celica again. She's standing near the edge of the camp, looking out at the Rigelian landscape that stretches away before her. At her side is an elderly man – Faye vaguely remembers that he was Celica's teacher and caretaker in the priory, and that he had joined them at Mila's Temple.

Just one more detail that passed her by in her haze of anger, she supposes.

As she nears, the man places a hand on her shoulder and gives her a nod before taking his leave. Celica watches his departure for a moment, and then she turns to face Faye, a gentle smile on her face.

The two of them stand there for a long moment, and then Faye breaks the silence with a sigh.

“You know, I use to have a dream. I mean, not the sleeping kind of dream, but something I wanted.”

Celica does not respond, aside from settling herself down on fallen log and patting her side to invite Faye to do the same.

“It was shortly after Alm and everyone went away. It's... heh. I feel a little embarrassed to say it out loud because – it's so mundane. But anyway, I dreamed that one day I'd wake up and everyone would be back again. Alm, Gray, Tobin, Kliff. Maybe someone would have a scar or two – nothing disfiguring – just enough for them to boast about being manly, and maybe they'd have some fancy new armour or weapons they picked up during the fighting. But – everyone would come back. And we'd gather together and talk and laugh and it would be just like old times. It would be like they never left.”

Faye pauses as she wrings her hands. Then she closes her eyes.

“And... after I met you again, after I set out on this journey with you... that dream changed. Just a little bit. Now, when the journey ended, I'd go back home and everyone else would already be there and waiting for me. For us, actually, because... I wanted you to be part of the dream too. I wanted you to come back to Ram and stay with us, even if just for a little while, and...” She broke off and took a deep breath.

“It wasn't about the lies, Celica. That stung, yes. But... it was forcing me to realize... that dream is never going to come true. Not just you. Everyone else... they're not going back either, are they? Even when the war ends... they'll never be satisfied with just returning to Ram. And I just felt so – so betrayed. By my own dream. Not by anyone else.” She laughs, with the beginning of sob mixed in as she feels her throat tighten. “I must sound really stupid, huh?”

“No, you don't.” Celica reaches out to grasps her hand “I think that's a wonderful dream to have, Faye. It's just... not everyone can share it. And of course you'd feel hurt when you realize it may not come to pass.”

“... I'm sorry. I've been such a – a stuck up jerk to you for no good reason.”

“It's all right. I'm just glad you were willing to come to me about this.” Celica pats her hand in a comforting gesture. “Your friendship means a lot to me, Faye. I spent years with everyone at the priory, true, but you were still the first one to come to me offering your friendship all those years ago.”

Faye snorts as she feels the warm glow of nostalgia. “I seem to recall you rejecting that particular offer.”

“So I did. And yet, here we are.”

“Yeah... Here we are.” Faye takes a deep breath. “All right, Celica. On to Duma Tower next, right? We'll save Mila together. And this time, there'll be no more secrets!”

Celica nods once. “That's right. No more secrets.”

That's a bald-faced lie, but at that time, Faye has no way of knowing that, and so she smiles and nods back at her friend, her heart light.

(X)

“ _Uncle Mycen? Are you home?”_

“ _I'm over here, Faye.” She saw him sitting by the fireplace, a thick book in his hand. “Have you found your answer, lass?”_

_She paused, suddenly struck by the worry that he'd deem her answer too weak or spurious to justify teaching her. But she'd thought about it long and hard, and so steeling herself, she nodded._

“ _I want... I want to protect Ram Village.”_

“ _Oh?” He looked up at her and she couldn't read him well enough to see if he approved or disapproved._

“ _There are all sorts of dark, nasty things beyond the village walls. I don't want life in the village to change, ever. I want every day to be peaceful. I want everyone to always be smiling and laughing. And so... in case anyone ever comes to destroy that life, I want to be able to protect everyone. Alm, Gray, Tobin and Kliff. Mom and Dad and Nana. And you too, Uncle! That's why... that's why I want to get stronger.”_

_He was standing in front of her now, arms folded and looking down at her with that piercing gaze. She swallowed and forced herself to look up at his face._

“ _You say you don't want anything to change.” His voice was low. “But do you realize that if you take up the sword and fight to defend others, you'll be the one to change? If ever there comes a day where you need to truly fight for your life, you won't come back the same person who left.”_

_His tone was that of a warning, but at twelve-years of age Faye was headstrong and so she knit her brows together as she ignored the dark truth behind the words. “I've already fought for my life before, Uncle Mycen.”_

_He closed his eyes and sighed. “So you have. Very well. I'll accept your answer. Let that be the fire in your belly that spurs you on in the trials to come. I'll see you at sunrise tomorrow, lass.”_

_She felt a burst of elation at his acknowledgement. She barely remembered to say thank you to him before she dashed out the door, wanting to find Alm and to give him the good news._

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:** The chapter and especially its conclusion ended up being way lighter than I thought it would be when I first started writing it. I planned for Celica and Faye to really get angry at each other and end up in a real, honest-to-goodness argument but the more I thought about it the more I thought Celica would internalize the guilt of lying to Faye instead of lashing out at her.

And honestly, there are far more stressful events awaiting them down the road as anyone who's played SoV knows.

Also why is this chapter so long aaaaahhhhhhh

Thanks for taking the time to read this! Reviews and comments would be much appreciated!


	8. When She Told Celica The Truth

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

It's night and the group is huddled around the campfire, listening to Celica as she explains their next course of action.

Duma's Tower is up north, but the most direct road is blocked to them. Clouds of noxious fumes have settled upon the land ahead, making it impossible for people to traverse. Their only recourse will be to head west – rumours speak of underground pathways that will allow them to move without exposing themselves to the poisonous air, and in a worst case scenario, they can strike out instead for the inland rivers and use that to head north.

As she says this, Celica folds her arms, and her eyes narrow with concern. The way west, she explains, has its own dangers. Chief among them, a keep guarded by a member of high standing in the Duma Faithful. Several of the priestesses at Mila's Temple knew of him and had warned her to avoid crossing his path – but right now she saw little alternative.

All this is very important to know, which is why Faye feels even more embarrassed when she nods off halfway through the briefing and falls off her stool.

There are scattered laughs as she jerks awake and hastily clambers back onto her seat, but she sees Celica looking at her, and her brow is furrowed.

Later, after everything is concluded and people have broken up to handle their own affairs for the night, it's Saber that comes up to her, arms folded and a stern look on his face.

“Are you sure you're getting enough sleep, girl?”

“Well...” she shrugs and pastes a smile on her face, “I guess? It's been a long day and I guess I pushed myself a little more than I should have.” She stifles a yawn, and tries to ignore the buzzing in the back of her head and how her limbs feel heavy and clumsy.

If anything, his expression only hardens as he walks closer to her and looks her up and down.

“According to the watch you're almost always the last one to go to bed, and you're also always the first to crawl out of your tent in the morning. And the campfire's dying down but there's still more than enough light for me to see you can barely keep your eyes open right now.” A pause as he takes a deep breath. “Why aren't you getting enough rest?” The way he asks tells her he already knows the answer, and Faye bites her lip.

“I'm fine,” she says, abandoning all pretence at cheerfulness as she crosses her arms. His gaze is knowing, and she finds herself averting her own after a moment. He's not responsible for her – she doesn't need to answer to him.

Finally, Saber breaks the frosty silence with a sigh.

“It's okay to tell us if you're having nightmares or anything, you understand? No one's going to think any less of you if you're finding all the fighting and killing hard to stomach.”

“Wh- No!” She shakes her head, automatically denying the statement almost before she realizes what she's saying. “I'm fine! I can keep going! If it's for Celica's sake, I'll do it! I can kill anyone, do you hear me? I'm fine!”

Again, a long moment of silence. Saber merely stands there, looking at her, letting her words sink in the frigid night air.

“Faye,” he finally says, and the way he says her name makes her look at him, her lips drawn into a hard line. “The fighting _is_ getting to you. I can tell. I'd wager most of us can. And you don't need to feel like you're alone in this. You think someone like Genny is any more comfortable with fighting and killing than you? Hell, you think the princess is?”

Faye bites her lip and doesn't reply, because yes, of course she does. Everyone around her seems to treat the battles like something normal, something they're used to. Their eyes are clear and their voice is steady and they can smile and laugh after the fighting like nothing has happened, like the battlefield wasn't littered with corpses. Like they hadn't been one wrong move, one careless step away from getting killed themselves. Like the soldier they just driven a blade through hadn't been a – a _perso_ _n_. Just an obstacle, now removed.

And she doesn't want to be the weak link, and so she's made sure to always smile too, and to focus her attention on healing the wounded in their party so she doesn't need to think about what it means to kill or be killed. After all, it'd just slow her down.

But then she supposes someone like Saber wouldn't have been fooled. She looks at him and wonders how many battlefields he's seen, how many employers he's worked under.

How many people's he killed before.

“Battle can harden some people,” Saber says, and his gaze is now distant as he looks up at the night sky. “But others, it grinds down to the bone. You're still a long ways off from being a hardened soldier, girl. So don't push yourself too hard. That's all I wanted to say.”

Faye swallows and nods, and tries to take his words the way he intended to deliver them; not words of admonishment or belittlement, but words of advice from a gruff, hardened warrior, delivered in the only manner he knows how.

“I'm...” she finds her voice is weak and uncertain and she swallows and takes a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she speaks again. She doesn't want to _remember._ When she lies down to sleep, her mind refuses to settle down and she in her mind she hears screams and cries and the sound of metal piercing skin, and she smells the stench of burning flesh and she sees bodies strewn about in a macabre display. It all mixes together in her mind, congealing into a dark horror that stalks her into slumber and plagues her dreams. Even focusing on Alm doesn't help – she knows he's fighting a war too and too often her dreams have her stumbling across a corpse on the battlefield, one with armour as blue as the ocean and hair the colour of the forest. “I guess you're right.” She sighs. “I really should be getting more rest, huh? Even if it's just so I won't be a burden on Celica and everyone else.”

“That really wasn't the point I was driving at, girl.”

“I know... I know.” She takes another deep breath. “I... I'll deal with the rest later. When we've had some time to settle down and take stock. But... it's not like I can just turn off the nightmares, though.” She chuckles. “Honestly, what I _wouldn't_ give for a peaceful night's sleep. Just once.”

“About that.” There's an unexpected warmth in Saber's voice now and Faye lifts her eyes to see him smiling. “Well, I have something that might help.”

He opens his pouch and reaches in, and Faye sees that he's grabbed several small, black leaves.

“Here,” he says as he offers the dried herbs to her. “Boil a couple of these in water and drink it before going to bed. No bad dreams for the night, guaranteed. 'Course this sort of thing isn't something you wanna rely on long term, but this should be fine for a couple of nights.”

Hesitantly, she reaches out to accept them. She knows that there are such things as herbs that can be used to grant dreamless sleep, but it wasn't like she had ever made use of them before.

“Thanks, Saber.” Her voice is soft.

He snorts and shakes his head. “It's no bother. Just take care of yourself, girl. It's going to get worse before it gets better, out here in Rigel.” With a final nod of goodbye, he turns and heads off on his own.

(X)

Faye darts through the air, feeling the sting of the cold wind in her face. At her side, Catria keeps pace easily, guiding her own mount to match Flora's pace.

Faye catches Catria's eye, and the more experienced pegasus rider nods to her. _Catria's right,_ Faye thinks as she returns the nod. They'd practised it before. She could do this.

She snaps her reins at the same time she utters a word of command. “Down!”

She sees Flora foldding her wings in preparation, and suddenly the ground is rushing up to meet her. For a moment her mind is blank and then, she remembers what to do.

“Whoa!”

A pull back on the reins, and Flora's wings spread again as her flight evens out. Faye releases her breath and pats the side of Flora's neck.

“Good job!” Catria is at her side again, a smile on her face. “You're getting the hang of this!”

Faye laughs and shrugs. _This wasn't_ _a very complicated move anyway,_ she wants to say, but she's afraid the wind will take her words away before they reach her. Not for the first time, she wonders how Catria and her sisters can communicate so well midflight.

On that note, her gaze travels to the distance, where faint streaks of green and red are visible. Palla and Est are training too, practising their combat manoeuvres and teamwork. Even at this distance she can see how they move through the air in a graceful swoops and dives, and now that she has some rudimentary experience with riding a pegasus, she can properly appreciate how much more skilled the Whitewings are at flying with their mounts.

Her gaze shifts to Catria. She's been taking time out of her own training sessions to help tutor Faye in riding Flora. She's never said anything or expressed any discontent with that state of affairs, and she seems glad enough whenever Faye shows improvement as a rider, but still...

 _I should probably do something for Catria. Show her my appreciation._ This isn't the first time she's thought of something along those lines, but it's been difficult to find any resources or anything at all ever since she's entered Rigel. If only they could find a town or some place with supplies soon...

She's so wrapped in her own thoughts – and without explicit commands, Flora is happy to cruise through the air – that she misses the dark shape bearing down at her through the mist. But she notices when Catria suddenly jerks the reins of her pegasus and her spear, normally strapped to her back, is now drawn and tucked into the crook of her arm.

“Ambush!” Her call is loud, but Faye has no time to check if Palla and Est have heard it. She now sees the gargoyle bearing down on her, scythe clutched tight in its legs, eyes blazing with unholy light.

She jerks her reins to the side on instinct – and Flora wavers, confused. Catria's warning that Flora wouldn't know what to do in a real fight flashes through her mind, and Faye bites her lip.

But for now, the priority is to get away. Faye thrusts her hand out, not trusting herself to be able to draw the staff she'd strapped to Flora's side before the flight. “Seraphim!”

The wave of light surges from her palm – and the gargoyle nimbly avoids the poorly aimed spell. Worse yet, the sudden sound and light has startled Flora and she bucks in the air, throwing Faye off balance.

The flap of wings, and Catria zips by her, moving so fast Faye can barely track her movement. A sharp 'thunk!' and Catria is shaking the stone corpse off the tip of her spear.

But experience has taught Faye that gargoyles don't hunt alone, and she can see two – no, three – more shapes looming through the mist.

“Faye, fall back!” is all Catria says before she darts ahead once more, drawing the attention of the Terrors and buying time for Faye to do as she says.

Flora's own flight is still shaky and unsure, and Faye tightens the grip on her reins, trying to calm her down and assert control.

She wheels through the air, risks a glance around – and she spies what appears to be a lone figure standing on the ground. As she watches, the man raises his hand and suddenly dark shapes spring from the land around him.

 _Another cantor?_ Faye's gaze hardens. Catria is busy dealing with the airborne Terrors, and there's no telling how many more the man will call up. Unless she stops him here.

“Flora, down!” The command is spoken with as much authority as she can muster, and her pegasus' trust in her does the rest. Once more the ground is rushing up to meet her, but Flora's flight is steady and unwavering, and her landing is smooth as glass.

Hurriedly, Faye clambers off Flora, nearly falling off as she tries to dismount as quickly as possible. She reaches for her staff, tugs it free. The feeling of the rod in her hands is a comforting one, and she hurriedly smacks Flora on her flank.

“Go!” She doesn't want her pegasus to panic – or worse, get injured – here. Flora gazes at her and Faye swears her mount looks worried for her. “I'll be fine! Just go!”

Finally Flora takes to the skies again in a flurry of beating wings, and Faye whirls to confront the cantor. He's noticed her as well, and the light of his summoning fades as five more gargoyles come into being.

Faye swallows. If all of them set on her at once, she's as good as dead. But he gestures, and three of the stone beasts take to the skies, leaving two hovering in the air at his side.

“You're not my target.” His gaze is dismissive and he waves his hand as he turns back to observing the battle in the skies. “I've no time to waste on a chit of a girl like you. Tear her apart.”

At his command both gargoyles dash at her. She sidesteps their charge, narrowly avoiding their flashing scythes, and raises her staff. The Nosferatu spell knocks one to the ground, stunning it momentarily, but Faye can tell it'll be back up in a moment.

The remaining gargoyle changes tactics, hovering near her and lashing out with its scythe, using its long reach to force Faye back and on the defensive. Faye skips back, putting as much ground as she can between her and the monster before firing a Seraphim spell off. The gargoyle doesn't evade in time, and Faye has the satisfaction of watching the beast disintegrate under the power of the blast.

The first gargoyle has recovered by now, and it screeches as it dives at her once more. She takes a deep breath, planting both feet firmly on the ground, and again holy light blazes from her staff. The creature's scream lingers in the air long after it is gone.

A twisting of the energy in the air around her alerts her to another spell being cast and she ducks to side just as a bolt of dark energy sears through the air. Though the spell misses her, she can feel an unpleasant tingling sensation in the spell's wake, and she focuses once more on the Duma priest, now glowering at her with a snarl curling his lip.

“Tenacious rat. Fine, I'll deal with you myse-guhk!” He chokes as the sharpened tip of a spear tears through his back, impaling him. He staggers forward once and then collapses onto the cold earth.

Faye glances upwards and sees Catria coming in for a landing, flanked on both sides by Palla and Est. Her hands are empty, indicating that she was the one who had hurled the spear that killed the cantor, and Faye smiles in relief. The smile dies as she sees a dark bloodstain across Catria's clothes, and her hand that's pressed to her side, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“Hold on!” she says as she dashes over to Catria's side, bathing the wound in as much healing energy as she can manage. Finally, Faye steps back and nods as Catria takes a deep breath.

“Whew,” she says with a small laugh, “I'm feeling really worn out all of a sudden. I guess that fight took more out of me than I thou-”

“Why are you still here?” Catria's demand and harsh glare come as a rude shock to Faye and she can only blink in surprise for a moment.

“What? I-”

“I told you to fall back,” Catria has dismounted by now – all three Whitewings have – and she takes a step towards Faye, who instinctively steps back to keep the space between them, “not to go to ground and get into a fight!”

“I – I spotted the cantor down there! He was the one summoning the gargoyles, so I thought it'd be best if I stopped him as soon as possible!”

“Do you have any idea how reckless that was?!” Catria raises a hand but stops short of actually seizing her by the shoulder. Instead she clenches it into a fist and lets it fall back to her side. “The visibility here is terrible! There could be any number of enemy soldiers waiting in ambush. If he had just two more men at his side you'd already be dead! In fact, if there were archers, you'd never have made it to the ground at all!”

Faye blinks, finding herself unable to argue against Catria's words. Behind her, Palla steps forward and lays a calming hand on her younger sister's shoulder.

“Catria, it's okay. Everything turned out fine, didn't it?”

Catria lets her breath out a sigh, the ire in her voice fading when she replies, “... And we may not be so lucky next time. Don't take foolish risks like that again, understand?”

Faye manages a slight, hesitant nod as Catria steps over to retrieve her spear. She takes two steps, and pauses.

“And... thanks. For healing me.”

She then continues walking. Her pegasus obediently falls into step behind her with a snort and a shake of its head.

As Faye stares forlornly at Catria's retreating figure, Palla steps closer to her and offers an encouraging smile.

“Don't take her criticisms personally, Faye. If she seems angry, it's because she was worried about you and it just came out wrong.”

“Yeah,” Est chimes in with a laugh, “Catria means well, but her advice always comes out like she's scolding. It's just her way of showing she cares.”

“It's not that,” Faye mumbles as she stares at the ground. “It's... Catria was right. I acted without thinking.”

_I was careless. I just... got lucky this time._

She lets out a sigh, and sees her breath come out in a rush of mist. _I'm still not where I need to be. I still need everyone to cover for me._

Palla doesn't respond immediately, instead gesturing to indicate that they should head back in the direction of the camp. They walk in silence for a bit before she sighs.

“You're not a trained soldier, Faye, or even a mercenary. I won't pretend that was the correct call to make, but in the heat of battle it's understandable that you would make a choice like that. Some things... well, you can only learn with experience.”

“Yes, so stop beating yourself up,” Est lifts a finger to forestall Faye's automatic denial, “because I can totally tell that you are. And just be glad you got the chance to learn from today's mistake.”

 _After all, there are hundreds, thousands of others who made the wrong decision in a fight... and paid for it._ The last part of Est's statement goes unsaid, and Faye nods as she takes a deep breath.

“All right. Thanks.”

“It's no bother. Come on. If nothing else, we need to let everyone know there are Duma faithful patrolling the area.”

And together, they head off into the gloom.

(X)

Two days later, the reach their next destination – the keep of Dolth the Necromancer.

The bastion looms over them, a harsh, imposing structure that seems practically unassailable. Faye bites her lip and wonders how they're supposed to assault the place.

“Oh, yeah. I heard some people back in Mila's Temple talking about this,” Mae's voice floats up from behind her. She's talking to Boey, but it's loud enough that Faye can overhear. “They say this Dolth guy is famous for being able to summon necrodragons. Or infamous, I guess.”

“But... it's just a rumour, right?” Boey is trying and failing to keep the trembling out of his voice and Faye casts him a look of sympathy. It's difficult enough fighting those monsters as is, she doesn't want to imagine doing it while struggling against a phobia too.

“Well, those necrodragons guarding the graveyard earlier were probably put there for a reason, you know? Not just everyday you run into a whole horde of them.”

“Heh heh heh...” a voice sounds in her ear, and Faye starts with surprise. But there's no one nearby, and after a moment Faye realizes she can sense the presence of magic. A communication spell of some sort, then.

And it's only then she notices a figure swathed in dark robes, standing in the main entrance of the keep.

“Welcome, child of fate.” The man spreads his arms. “You arrived sooner than I anticipated. But, no matter. Once your soul is offered to Lord Duma, our fondest wishes will come to pass. Surely there is no call for needless struggle. Lay down your arms and come peacefully.”

Faye feels her stomach twist, and she sees red. Offer up Celica's soul? As if she'd ever let that happen. She glances over at Celica and sees her gripping her blade tightly, her face a stern mask.

“Hey, I dunno if you've taken too many knocks to the head or what,” Mae yells back, her fists clenched. “But you're nuts if you think you're laying a hand on Celica, pal!”

“Hm.” The man – probably Dolth, Faye decides – chuckles and shakes his head. “It's so hard to hold a proper conversation when there are so many insects buzzing about. Perhaps I had better remove such distractions before we have our talk, _princess_.”

The man waves his hand, and Faye sees dark shapes crawling over the castle walls. She bites her lip as she recognizes the lizardlike forms. So the rumours about the necrodragons were true, after all.

Her stomach sinks as she does a quick estimate of the number of monsters they're fighting – it's a bigger crowd than the group they fought back in the graveyard, and she can also see people manning the castle walls. The fight ahead is going to be a hard one.

“Stay close,” she hears Deen say. “Break for the castle gates.”

“Right.” Kamui nods. “Can't afford to get bogged down in the swamps when they have archers with a good vantage point.”

It's a plan, at least. Faye doesn't know if it's a good one, but right now all she can do is try to help carry it out.

They move forward as one. The ground in front of the keep is filled with thick sludge and she can see a drain in the side of the wall from which more of the dark substances flows out.

A flash of white above them, and once again the Whitewings are doing all they can to harry the archers and distract them from the landlocked members of the group, but the going is harder than normal as they have to steer clear of the necrodragons' snapping jaws as well.

“Ah!” Her feet catch against a root hidden under the waters and she nearly falls. Hurriedly she regains her balance and continues to move. The gates are just ahead-

And the necrodragons are upon them.

The first one that strikes at them is felled quickly – Atlas stabs deep into its chest with his blade as Leon sinks an arrow into its head. But there are more – always more. In the distance, Faye catches sight of Dolth retreating back into the confines of the keep, and her face hardens into a frown.

Energy flows in a river from her staff and fingertips as she tries to keep everyone around her on their feet. Their charge slows, but doesn't stop. They manage to move ahead, leaving a slew of corpses in their wake.

And finally they're in the shadow of the castle walls, but a roaring sound from above tells of a second wave of dragons being called up and Faye finds herself gasping for breath. She's grown used to having to cast many spells in rapid succession, but this particular fight has been more taxing than most. And it's not anywhere close to being over yet.

“Blast it,” she sees Saber grit his teeth, “that bastard's set a squad of the dragons to guard the entrance. We try to fight our way through and we'll be sitting ducks when they swarm us on all sides.”

“What options do we have?” Celica's voice is steady as she hurls a blast of a light at another approaching dragon, driving it back.

“I can...” Genny's voice is soft amidst the din of battle. “I can take care of the necrodragons.”

Celica looks over at Genny. “You mean expelling them? Are you certain you can handle it?”

“I can,” the younger cleric nods. “I trained just for occasions like this, after all.”

“Genny?” Faye risks a glance over. “What's this about?”

“I can get rid of the Terrors.” She takes a deep breath. “But I'm going to need you to cover me – both before and after the spell.”

She isn't sure what Genny is talking about, but... well, she trusts her, and so she nods, moving to place herself between Genny and the closest of the approaching dragons.

As she raises her staff to try and drive the creature back, she hears a soft chanting from behind.

“O Blessed Mother. O Holy Mother. Giver of Life, our divine Provider.”

The creature lunges, but she's saved the need to dodge when Jesse leaps forward, blade in hand. He slashes it in the joint between the jaw and the neck, and the necrodragon screeches in rage.

“All Life is Holy. All Life is Sacred. All Life is to be Revered. Nature is your domain, and so it is ours as well.” The chanting grows louder and stronger, and Faye can hear the same reverberating in Genny's voice as when she had summoned the spectral soldiers so long ago.

Another one, this one with torn wings that have crippled its ability to fly. But its limbs are long and thick and it sprints at Faye with inhuman speed. She barely has time to fire off a spell, and it burns straight through the creature's body. The dragon crumples to the ground, twitching feebly. And before anyone can move to finish it off, two more dragons rush in, crawling over the bodies in their frenzy to get at the group.

_Ugh. Too many of them..._

“The Terrors mock Life. The Terrors profane Life. As light banishes darkness, let your power, your Blessings, banish these foul mockeries.”

A dragon snarls, and strikes at her. Faye dodges to the side and suddenly the Dragon's attention is caught by Genny, standing still and holding her staff close to her as she continues to chant. _No!_ Frantically, Faye hurls a Seraphim spell, catching the back leg of the dragon and blasting it off. It barely slows its charge.

“Earth Mother. Divine Mother. Grant us your power now. Shine your light to drive away the darkness that lurks within these shells. May these suffering souls find rest. O Tormented Ones...”

The necrodragon is almost upon her. Its jaws open wide, and it rears back-

“GENNY!” Faye cries out as she reaches out a hand. A spell, she has to cast a spell, distract it, delay it, do _something_ but she'll never make it in time-

The air in front of Genny twists and warps, and suddenly Sonya is standing there, eyes narrowed in concentration. As Faye watches, she thrusts both hands out, and a blast of spiralling air shears straight through the beast's head, cutting the bottom of its jaw clean off and sending it reeling back.

“Nosferatu!” Faye's own spell has taken shape by then, and the energy blast drains the necrodragon of the last of its energy. The monster falls, and Faye sees Genny's eyes open – they're glowing with an unearthly radiance.

“ _ **BEGONE!**_ ”

The sphere of light expands out through the area, and Faye feels a tingling on her skin as it passes through her. But whatever effect it has on her, the reaction of the Terrors are far more pronounced. As the light passes through them, they glow impossibly bright for a second – and then they collapse onto the ground like puppets with their strings cut. In moments the battlefield is strewn with the unmoving bodies of the necrodragons.

“Wow...” Faye breathes out as she turns around. “Genny, that was amaz-”

She cuts herself off as she sees the glow in the cleric's eyes fade. Genny takes a tottering step forward as her staff falls from limp hands, and then she swoons – only to be caught in Sonya's arms.

“Genny!” Faye hurries over, her staff already shining with light once more.

“It's all right,” Sonya says as she examines the fallen cleric. “She's just unconscious. That spell must have taken a lot out of her.”

“And it took a lot out of them too!” Saber brandishes his blade. “Now's our chance. Get in and cut that bastard down before he calls up a fresh set of dragons!”

“I'll look after her,” Sonya promises Faye with a nod. “You go see to Dolth and the rest of these worms.”

Faye takes one last look at Genny before she nods and charges through the entrance. The sudden loss of the necrodragons have thrown the keep's defenders into disarray, and the outer circle of soldiers are quickly dealt with.

A bolt of dark fire slams into her, and Faye staggers back.

“Agh!”

She sees a man dressed in dark robes, his features hidden save for a pair of glowing eyes. He raises his hand, and she can sense more power gathering within. Without thinking, she raises her staff, casting a counterspell of her own.

The Nosferatu spell burns through the man's life just before he can fire that spell a second time, and Faye slumps as she feels a surge of energy through her body. It's a familiar feeling by now. Not a pleasant one, but familiar.

And then suddenly she realizes the battle has shrunk to an isolated pocket that she's just at the edge of. The man – Dolth – is almost alone, with only a couple of his bodyguards at his side. Even as she watches, one of them is cut down by Deen – and then Valbar rams the other one with his shoulder, sending him flying.

“It's over.” Celica's voice is stern as she advances on Dolth, her blade drawn.

“Is it now?” Dolth's smile is unpleasant and oily and Faye tenses, waiting for the man to try casting a spell.

It's only when the air around her crackles that she realizes he'd already finished doing so.

A floating skull fades into visibility and before Faye can react a wave of darkness spews from its mouth, engulfing her. Pain explodes in her body, and Faye crumples to the floor with a strangled cry.

“Faye!” Celica's cry of distress, sounding oddly muted to her ears. And at her side, a sudden presence and Faye realizes that Dolth is now standing over her.

She tries to pull herself to her feet, tries to _move_ , but all strength seems to have fled her body and she can only lie on the cold stone, fighting to force another breath into her lungs.

“Princess, princess! What is this? Bringing untrained villagers to fight against the Chosen of Lord Duma? I had heard tales of your boundless compassion, but here I see you sending a poor child to her doom!” She feels a hand, cold and clammy, on her neck, and she tenses.

“Wait – wait, stop! Don't hurt her!” Celica's voice again, but with an edge of panic in it, and Faye feels her gut tighten.

“Oh? You value her life? Then lay down your weapons, and come with me.” The hand at her neck lifts.

_No... NO!_

She turns, crawling on her belly like a crippled person.

Her stomach feels like it's on fire, her vision is going fuzzy around the edges, and she can barely move her limbs, but still she reaches forward. Towards Celica.

“Celica... no, you can't...”

A boot stamps on her hand, crushing it under the heel, and Faye lets out another gasp of pain.

“I'm _waiting_ , princess.”

“I – I'll do it! Anything you ask! Just let her go!”

“Heh heh heh. A wise decision. Now-”

Suddenly, she remembers. Ram. The woods. Soldiers. Surrounded.

Seized by the arm. A man. Purple hair. A sneer that seemed too big for his face. A brandished blade, gleaming in the sun.

_**No.** _

_**Never again.** _

Faye closes her eyes and focuses. Beyond the pain. Beyond the weakness. She shuts out everything, the pounding in the back of her skull, the burning pain in her gut, the agony flaring all across her body. All of it, cast aside.

One spell. Just one more.

Dolth's foot is still crushing one hand. She reaches up with her other and seizes his ankle.

“What? You-”

“Nos... feratu.”

The sound of sizzling flesh, and the man instinctively jerks away.

“Gah! You, impudent-!”

From somewhere in the distance, the sound of hoofbeats. Faye's vision is blurry, but she sees something like a horse charging in. Atop it, a masked knight, his lance blurring as he cuts down Dolth midgallop.

“Guah!” Dolth collapses to the floor, and Faye hears the pounding of footsteps. A moment later, Celica is at her side, helping her to sit up and she feels the warmth of healing pouring into her body as the pain recedes – slightly.

“Faye! Oh gods, Faye! I'm sorry! Thank the Mother you're all right-”

“What were you thinking?”

The voice is new and harsh and Faye looks up to see the masked knight staring down at her.

“Would you so easily cast your life aside? Do you know what those men intend for you?” The knight demands as he dismounts and strides over to Celica, still crouching at Faye's side.

Celica's eyes widen before they narrow in anger. “Would you have me abandon my friend instead? Am I supposed to buy my safety at the cost of hers?”

That seems to bring the knight up short, as he stops in his walk. “No... of course not. But your actions were still far too rash. There are always alternatives.”

The frown remains on Celica's face, and she does not take her eyes off the knight even as Faye feels her maintaining the Recovery spell. “You've helped me more than once, sir knight. For that, I am grateful. But you may rest assured that I don't need you to tell me of the dangers I face or the risks I may take.” She takes a deep breath. “My life is mine to spend.”

Something dark and dangerous lurks in those words. But Faye doesn't have time to ponder it as the knight nods and raises his hands to his mask.

“Indeed. You are your own person, and you can make your own decisions. But if those decisions lead to you throwing your life away, then I cannot simply stand by and let that happen. After all... a brother could do no less for his sister.”

Faye feels Celica's grip on her shoulder tighten reflexively as the knight removes his mask to reveal kind, gentle eyes – almost, Faye realizes with a start, the exact mirror of Celica's own. And framed by that mop of messy red hair, it suddenly becomes obvious that he's related to Celica somehow.

“Conrad?” She hears Celica's voice, strained with disbelief.

“Yep, that's me.” He chuckles, the laugh boyish and so at odds with the imposing persona he had displayed a moment ago. “It's been a long time, huh, sis?”

(X)

Faye sits up in the cot and takes a deep breath. Outside, the sky is dark and she can see roiling clouds stretching into the horizon. If she didn't know better she'd have said a storm was on its way. But it's Rigel and those angry billowing clouds seems as much a part of the climate as the endless swamps.

Cleared of its former inhabitants, Dolth's keep appeared comfortable enough – at least, in comparison to the endless barren lands they had made camp in for the past few weeks. At this point everyone had become used to the routine of seeking out bedrooms and storehouses and getting some much needed rest before they worried about the next leg of their journey.

Celica had vanished with Conrad – apparently her long lost brother? – almost immediately after the battle and Faye supposed she couldn't fault her for that. They would have a lot of catch up on, after all.

But still... _Lots of lost royalty popping up all of a sudden, huh?_ Faye thinks wryly to herself as she swings her legs over the edge and makes to stand.

There's a stirring in the pallet next to hers, and Faye pushes herself to her feet, hurrying over.

“Are you feeling all right, Genny?”

Genny blinks slowly before sitting up in bed, one hand pressed to her head. “Still a little woozy, but I'll be fine. That spell took a lot out of me.”

“That's no surprise,” a new voice comes from the doorway and Faye turns to see Sonya clutching a pair of mugs in her hands, “an Expel spell powerful enough to destroy an army of necrodragons is no small feat, after all. It's natural you'd be worn out.”

“Sonya?” Faye raises an eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

“No. Just the opposite, actually.” Sonya smiles and hands one of the two mugs to Faye, and the other to Genny. “The both of you aren't used to Rigel's climate, are you? Well, most of the native Zofians aren't, but you two seem to be suffering more than most.”

“Well...” Faye sighs. “I guess the cold has been getting to me more than I'd like.”

“Same here,” Genny shivers as she clutches the mug close to her. “To be honest, the chill is a bit unsettling.”

“Don't I know it.” Sonya clucks her tongue. “Anyway, as a born and bred native of the great pile of nothing we call Rigel, I know a few ways to help chase away the cold. Trouble is, I couldn't find any of the ingredients needed until we actually captured this base. You'd swear Duma Moss had gone extinct by now, with how hard it is to find around these parts. But I'm rambling. Here, drink.”

With a nod of thanks, Faye raises the cup to her lips and sips from it. Almost immediately her eyes widen and she sputters at the incredible bitterness of the brew. At her side, Genny apparently finds the drink just as unpalatable, if the way she's coughing is any indication.

Sonya nods in commiseration. “Tastes like Duma himself pissed in your cup, doesn't it? But it works, trust me.”

And it's true. As she forces the liquid down her throat, she can feel a strange warmth that seems to come from within her bones, helping to chase away the worst of the chilly atmosphere all around them.

“It really does.” she smiles and nods her thanks once more. “Thanks, Sonya.”

Sonya nods back before turning to Genny. “And how does our little heroine of the hour find it?”

Genny blinks owlishly again before she properly processes the sentence and colour floods her cheeks. “H – heroine? I'm not – I mean-”

“You were what allowed us to break through the outer ring of their defences and finish the fight as quickly as we did. So yes, I believe 'heroine' suits you just fine.” Faye can see Sonya's eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Ah, well...” Genny trails off before raising one hand to scratch at her neck. “I was only able to finish casting it because you protected me, so... thank you very much.”

“Well, looking out for each other is just what allies do.” Sonya shrugs. “And if nothing else, I suppose I'm glad you seem more comfortable around me.”

“N-no,” Faye sees Genny wince. “I wasn't... I wasn't uncomfortable around you. Not exactly. It's just... you remind me a lot of my mother.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Sonya's eyes widen in shock for a moment. “I am nowhere near old enough to have a kid your age!”

“O – oh, of course! I know that!” Genny's raises her hands, a flustered expression on her face and Faye is forced to choke down a laugh – something that apparently doesn't help Sonya's mood any. “I don't mean now, of course, I mean you reminded me of... well, the last time I saw her.”

“Ah...” Sonya's voice takes a softer bent while Faye blinks in surprise.

“Genny? You mean... you don't have a mother anymore?”

“No. Well... maybe.” She sighs and stares down at her mug. “It was... well, she left me at the priory. It was years ago. She was beautiful, like you, Sonya, and she wore lots of make-up and jewelry as well. So... that's why. You reminded me of her.”

“... Poor thing.” Sonya heaves a sigh. “Well, don't blame yourself. I know what it feels like. After all,” she raises her gazes to the scene outside the window, “my father abandoned me to a priory too. Me and my sisters.”

“O-oh. I see...” Genny's voice is soft.

“I suppose that's the way of the world.” Sonya continues as he expression hardens. “Those who don't care would just leave their children out in the cold to fend for themselves. But a monastery promises a roof over their heads and food for the hungry, and they figure it's how they can abandon their little ones while still keeping a clear conscience.”

“It's... not like that. Not always.” Genny's voice is soft, but insistent. “Some people... honestly just can't provide for their children any more. And so that's the best way they have to ensure their offspring are still looked after.”

“Hm... perhaps.” Sonya heaves a sigh. “I know for a fact that wasn't the case with _my_ father, though. Anyway, I should leave you two to rest. You used up a whole lot of energy on that spell. And you,” Sonya says as she turns to Faye, “are just barely recovered from getting doused head to toe in fell magic. So you both had better get some more sleep.”

“Wait, what?” Genny looks over to Faye, her eyes wide. “What happened?”

“Oh, that.” Faye sighs and lowers her head. “Well, I got careless and my main contribution to the fight was getting taken hostage by Dolth after he nearly knocked me out with a single spell. Not exactly a shining performance, there.”

“Well, don't put yourself down too much.” Sonya gives her a wan smile. “It's not just anyone who can say they've taken a Death spell to the face and lived to tell about it. You're hardier than most and that's something to be thankful for.”

Sonya is trying to be encouraging, so Faye gives a nod and a slight smile as Sonya leaves – but not before reminding them to finish their drinks.

Alone with Genny once more, Faye settles down on her cot and they both spend a few moments in comfortable silence, sipping at the brew. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to the taste, but if its helps chase away the chill and gets her a good night's sleep, it'll be worth it.

Still, there's something niggling at the back of Faye's mind, and after a moment, she lowers her mug and looks over at Genny.

“Hey, Genny?”

“Hm? Yes, what is it?”

“I know this might be a personal question, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... does sort of thing happen often? I mean, parents leaving their children in the priory?” She suddenly realizes she's speaking from a complete dearth of experience, and for everything she's seen of Valentia, there's still so, so much more she doesn't know the first thing about. And she can only hope that Genny doesn't take offence to the question.

And thankfully, it looks like she doesn't. The younger girl appears deep in thought. After a moment, she sighs.

“Well, I have to say it didn't happen that often. After all, most of the time families are able to provide for their children, what with Mila's blessings and all... But still, more than it should have. Especially of late, with the droughts and famines. And I guess in Rigel where Duma doesn't provide bountiful harvests, the number would be higher.” A brief pause. “There was one other girl a few years older than me. Her name was Silque, and she was left at the priory around the same time I was. She didn't know why her mother left her behind, and she'd never met her father.

“At that time, we were the only two orphans there, so we were closer than most. She used to heal me whenever I got injured in the playground, and she'd help me with cleaning my hair.” A smile of nostalgia steals across her face. “And sometimes when I found it hard to go to sleep at night, she'd stroke my hair and sing lullabies until I fell asleep.”

“Huh,” Faye swirls what little remains of the drink in her cup, “she sounds like a really caring person.”

“Oh, she is. Silque can't see someone in trouble and _not_ help.”

“So she didn't want to come with you on this trip?”

“Ah, no. Actually she'd left the priory a while before Celica set out. She always said she had a calling to go on a pilgrimage to help those in need.” A worried look steals across her face briefly. “I haven't heard from her in months. I hope she's doing okay.”

“I'm sure she's fine.” Faye tries to inject some levity into the moment with a laugh. “After all, I've noticed that everyone I've met from the priory is an amazingly talented person. I'm sure she's the same.”

Genny chuckles at that as well, before she yawns and they both acknowledge they should probably be turning in for the night.

As she lies curled up in the cot, she finds herself thinking of a temple by the ocean, framed by sunlight, and she can't help but wonder what the place is like; the priory where Celica and Genny had grown up. That night she dreams of endless fields of flowers, brilliant in their beauty, and of being tickled by the gentle breeze under the warmth of the summer sun.

(X)

Faye spends most of the morning in the depths of the fortress, hard at work. It's only when Kamui pokes his head in to tell her they're ready the move that she realizes just how long she's taken.

As she walks alongside Kamui, he fills her in on the plan, or at least as much as he knows of it. Conrad had been living in Rigel all these years after the same assassination attempt that had caused Celica to become the 'lost' princess. And so he knows a hidden village to the north that they'll be able to take shelter in. But that means navigating a natural maze through the woods and so they'll all need to be prepared for a long march.

She's doesn't think she's supposed to be as happy as she is at the news, but to be honest just hearing the words 'woods' is enough to lift her spirits. After so long of slogging through desolate swamplands, any chance to be surrounded by nature and greenery again will be a welcome one.

Their path brings them through the basement of the keep, and Flora is visibly upset as they descend. Faye supposes she can't blame a flying creature for being wary of the underground, and she lays a comforting hand on her pegasus, trying to calm her down and soothe her nerves.

“Here, give her some of this.” A voice intrudes on her thoughts and she turns to see Catria with her hand outstretched, holding several cubes of sugar out to her. Her own pegasus plods alongside her, looking entirely carefree. “It'll help calm her down.”

With a nod of thanks, Faye accepts the gift and passes it on to Flora. Catria is right – Flora appears cheered by the treat and more willing to follow along.

“Thanks for the help.” She smiles back to Catria. The smile is returned, but there's a moment of hesitation that Faye can't help but notice.

Resisting the urge to sigh, she reaches for the bag at her hip. “And... here. These are for you.” She brings out a tiny pouch and passes it to Catria, who raises an eyebrow.

“Honey cookies,” she says before the question can be asked. “I heard from Est that you really like sweets and honeyed foods. And wouldn't you know it, they had some supplies in the keep! So I spent the morning making these. You know, just as a way of saying thank you. For all those riding lessons you've been giving me.”

Catria is silent for a moment, and then she sighs, her shoulders slumping. When she smiles again, the expression is more natural and comfortable and Faye finds herself smiling back.

“Thanks, Faye. I appreciate it.” Another slight pause. “And... I'm sorry. I was too harsh with you the other day.”

“No, no, it's okay.” Faye shakes her head. “It's fine! You were right... I messed up. You shouldn't need to sugarcoat it if I do something wrong. These are matters of life and death after all.”

“Well, that's true. But I should have remembered you don't really have formal military training either.”

“How do you mean?”

The basement has given way to a natural underground cavern that lets the light in, and they're once more walking through springy grass and soft loam. She hears Conrad's voice from up ahead, telling them they're almost at the Lost Treescape.

“Well, in the army we're taught the importance of a chain of command. Your higher up has access to information and resources that you may not. So if an order is given, it may not make sense to you, but it's something that's part of the larger picture. So you should trust in that order and follow it as best you can. So even shouted commands like what I did – well, in a battle they're to be taken as absolute orders.”

“Oh... I guess that makes sense.” Faye sighs. “Still, something like this expedition isn't really military either, right? I mean, Celica's the leader of the group, more or less, but she doesn't really give orders.”

“No, I would say not.” Catria's looks to the front of the convoy, where Celica is. “Although I suppose the burden of responsibility remains the same.”

“Burden of responsibility? You mean, like keeping everyone safe?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking.” Catria's blows a long breath out. “If you're the one who gives the orders, then ultimately if everything goes wrong it's your fault. And... well, the weight of duty can be heavy at times.”

“What do you mean?”

“... Well, do you know anything about the war in Archanea?”

“Er... sorry, no. Up until recently I'd never even left my home village. I barely knew what was going on in Zofia, let alone another continent.”

“It's fine. It's not something you need to apologize for. But the long and short of it is that there was a war that engulfed the entire continent. My country, Macedon... we were allied with another nation called Altea. But a prince from our country killed his father, assumed the throne and decided to ally with the opposing side – he thought it was the stronger faction and he wanted to, well. Be on the winning team.

“The commander – oh, sorry. The commander is princess – oh wait, she's queen now. I keep forgetting.” Catria frowns, thrown off by her own course of thought. “Well, at that time, the commander of us Whitewings was Princess Minerva. Of course she was outraged by Michalis' betrayal – that's the prince I mentioned – but the prince had taken their youngest sister hostage and so she had no choice but to choke on her pride as a knight and continue to fight under his name.” Catria lowers her head. “We all did. It's not something I'm proud of, but I won't deny it either. For the sake of Princess Maria's safety, we fought for an oathbreaker and a man guilty of patricide.”

“But that's...” words fail Faye and after a moment of sputtering, the only thing she can manage is, “that's awful!”

“War often is. It's so easy for man's vilest instincts to come to the fore in times of great trial,” Catria says as she closes her eyes.

They're now walking through the forest, and the sun is hidden by the thick layer of clouds above them. Still it's a verdant woodland, and Faye can't help but compare the peaceful scenery around her with the sordid tale that Catria is telling.

“Well, skipping the details, Prince Marth of Altea was able to free Princess Maria, and we were freed as well, to turn against our real enemies. Eventually we fought our way to the border of Macedon.” Her gaze is now distant.

“Just before the battle started, I overheard Prince Marth talking to the Commander. He said that he knew it would be painful for her to turn her axe against her own countrymen. That no one would blame her if she sat this particular battle out. And do you know what she said in reply?”

Spellbound by the story, Faye barely retains the presence of mind to shake her head.

“She said 'history needs to remember that when Macedon went astray, it was a Macedonian who set things right.' Commander Minerva... she felt dutybound, as princess of the nation, to stop her brother. No matter how painful it was.” Catria swallows, and Faye notices that her grip on her lance has tightened. “And she did. I was there for the final battle for Macedon's soul. Commander Minerva... and Prince Michalis. I could see, just from the looks on their faces. The Commander still loved her brother, and he... well, I think he still loved her too, in the only way someone as twisted as him could. But they fought with a ferocity I've never seen matched, and – in the end, the Commander cut her brother down.”

Despite the retinue travelling all around them, a silence seems to have enveloped the pair, and suddenly Faye realizes she is holding her breath. _Family turning on each other... that sounds so horrible. So... unreal. I don't want to ever have to go through that._

“That was the moment I finally realized how crushing the weight of duty can be. When you feel responsible for something, it becomes your burden to bear, and you have to set things right in whatever manner you know how. And... well. If I were in the Commander's shoes, would I have the strength to make the choices she did?”

“I... think you would.” Faye offers her what she hopes is an encouraging smile. “I mean, I've been with you a while now, Catria. And I can tell you're a good person. So... it may be a hard decision to make, but I'm sure you'd make the right one in the end.”

“Hmph...” A slight chuckle. “A good person? I may be a bit more selfish than you realize, Faye. But thanks for the vote of confidence anyway.”

Faye keeps the smile on her face, but she finds it is fading as her gaze travels to the front of retinue.

Celica, walking with her back straight and shoulders squared, eyes always looking ahead.

_When you feel responsible for something, it becomes your burden to bear, and you have to set things right in whatever manner you know how._

For some reason she can't quite figure out, Faye feels a trickle of unease travel down her spine.

(X)

Travel through the forest is more eventful than they would have liked – the area is crawling with Duma Faithful patrols as well as wandering Terrors, and by the time they stumble upon a small shrine to Mila in the middle of the forest, they are all grateful for the chance to sit and rest.

After rubbing down Flora, Faye heads into the interior of the shrine and finds Celica standing before the Mila stature, hands clasped and head bowed. Trying not to disturb her, Faye walks up to where Celica is standing and folds her own hands, uttering a silent prayer as well. She's not entirely sure why there's a shrine to Mila here – probably built in days long past, before the Divine Accord – but the Mother remains the Mother.

Finally, Celica takes a deep breath and smiles at Faye. “How are you holding up, Faye? Any after-effects from the spell Dolth hit you with?”

“I'm fine. Thanks.” To be honest, she's felt a little queasy for the entire day, but that's nothing compared to the fiery pain in her gut after she had been struck by the spell. “How about you?”

“I'm fine too...” Celica trails off before she laughs, a gentle sound. “Well, actually, my head's been spinning a little. It hasn't really sunk in yet. My brother... I'd mourned him for so many years, and then it turns out he's alive!”

“Congratulations, Celica.” Faye smiles at her. “I didn't really have a chance to say this back at the keep, but... I'm really happy for you. It's great that you've been able to find your family again.”

“Yes...” she heaves a sigh. “Yet I can't... well, I can't help those long years we spent apart. I can't blame him for wanting to keep his continued existence a secret, but still... I can't help but wonder what it would have been like if I'd known he was still alive. Still out there.”

“Well, you kept yourself a secret too.” Faye points out. “Not that you were... er, not dead. But that you were the princess.”

Celica's glances up at Faye, and she can see the faint trace of alarm in her features. But Faye keeps her smile as warm as she can make it, and Celica relaxes after a moment.

“Right... that's true enough.” She heaves a sigh. “I suppose we've all learnt lessons on how it can be damaging to keep a secret for so long.”

“Celica? Please don't blame yourself for my own hangups.”

“I'm not, I'm just...” Her shoulders slump. “It's a little silly, but I can't help but wonder how things would have been different if... well, everyone already knew. Each other's secrets I mean. There'd be a lot less bad blood, and I guess, well, it'd be easier to get along.”

“... I suppose.” She's been pondering it for a while, but if she had to pick a moment, it would be then that she made up her mind.

She takes a deep breath.

“Celica? Well... I know I said no more secrets earlier, so I think it's only fair that I let you know. I have something I've been keeping to myself as well. And I think... I want to let you know about it.”

Celica turns to face her, and she can see the question in her eyes. But her smile is still warm and inviting as she nods to Faye. “All right. By all means. I'm listening, Faye.”

“I... love Alm.” The words she had kept from Celica for so long came out so quickly and easily she almost surprised herself.

A silence falls upon the room. Celica blinks once but otherwise doesn't visibly react.

“I – I know you like Alm too.” Faye says, biting her lip despite her best efforts to stop. “At least, I've known ever since Zofia Castle. And I wanted to talk about it with you, but... at first, I was scared. I didn't want to upset you or – or to do anything to hurt our friendship. And after a while, I thought it would just sound silly if I brought it up while we were trying to find Mila and save her or something like that. So that's why... I kept quiet about it for so long.”

Faye trails off and waits to see how Celica will react. She feels her heart pounding in her chest, and she's certain that she's broken out in a cold sweat.

Finally Celica closes her eyes and sighs. “Oh dear.”

_Oh dear? What does that mean?_

“Then, that means... all those times I talked with you about Alm, all those times I mentioned how much I missed him... you were just sitting there and suffering in silence, weren't you?”

“Y – yes, but, well, that was my fault for not telling you earlier, I mean-”

“No,” Celica shakes her head and she reaches down to gently grasp Faye's hands. “Now that I think about it... it seems so obvious; I'm honestly surprised I didn't put it together myself. I should have seen it earlier.”

Faye isn't sure whether to feel happy that Celica is taking this revelation so well, or a little dismayed that even after trying to hide it, Celica thinks it was obvious in retrospect.

“So... you're not upset I'm just telling you now?

“No, I'm not. After all, Alm really is a wonderful person, isn't he?” Celica laughs, and the sound is light and airy in the dusty interior of the room. “If I fell in love with him, I could hardly blame you for doing the same.”

Faye finds a smile coming onto her face as well. “Yes, he is.” Then the smile fades. “But... Celica? This means... I... you...”

Celica pauses, and nods. “I know. I won't deny that this... certainly makes things more complicated. But Faye... I'll promise you this, at least. No matter what happens, no matter if Alm chooses me, or you, or maybe even neither of us, you will always, _always_ , be my friend. I want you to know that.”

Those words, spoken so simply, so earnestly, causes Faye's hard to skip a beat. Because after all, they lay bare the issue Faye herself was unwilling to think about for so long.

_If it's at all possible, I don't want Alm to come between us._

But is that possible?

“ _Tell me something. If this Alm boy doesn't love you... could you still be happy?”_

Faye didn't know then. She still doesn't.

_And if... if I lose Alm to Celica, would I still be able to call her a friend? Am I strong enough to do that?_

“I...” She swallows, takes a deep breath. The words won't come. “I...”

Suddenly, she finds herself moving. She throws herself forward, wrapping Celica in as tight an embrace as she can muster. She feels Celica start in surprise, before she relaxes into the hug and she feels Celica's arms come up to hold on to her as well.

“It's all right, Faye.” Celica's voice, gentle and soothing. “It's all right.”

She hears the words, and she wants to believe them. Desperately, wholeheartedly wants to.

But she doesn't know if she can.

She just doesn't know.

 

* * *

**Chapter End**

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**Author's Notes:** Looking back at what I've written, I kinda made the first half of this chapter 'Faye is not having a good time' but well, she isn't. For the Catria scene I was trying to show that Catria comes from a military background while Faye... doesn't. She trusts the chain of command and would respond quickly to any orders given whereas it's not an ingrained thing for Faye.

Part of the reason why I decided to have Flora as a character in this story was that I wanted to give an impetus for Faye and Catria (who are both rather reserved people in their own ways) to interact more and grow closer to each other. I hope I've succeeded on that front, at the least.

I wrestled with the scene where Faye admits she loves Alm it for quite a while, and I'm still not entirely satisfied with it. I'm not even sure what to add. I just feel like it could be a little... more? I dunno. Still, I hope it's to your liking.

Thanks very much for reading this! Reviews, criticism, and comments are much appreciated!


	9. When She Learned Alm Did Not Love Her

A Road Less Travelled

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The afternoon sun beat down on Faye as she crouched down, looking over the vines that were draped along the trellis.

Yes, the edges of the leaves were definitely browning. She sighed and shook her head before she straightened up and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“There you are, Faye!” The call came from behind her and she turned, smiling as she caught sight of Alm walking up. To her

“Hi, Alm! Your training with Sir Mycen finished already?”

“Yeah, I think grandfather was going easy on me today.” He sighed and one hand reached up to rub at his neck. “I also finished helping him with the sheep, so I figured I'd come see if you needed any help yourself.”

She beamed at his thoughtfulness before she remembered what she had been working on and her smile faded.

“No, I was just... checking up on the vineyard. The leaves are really starting to dry up now.” She pointed to one of the leaves where the browning was more obvious before dropping her hand and sighing.

Alm shook his head and sighed as well before he turned to look at the plants as well. He ran a hand through his hair and his gaze grew even more frustrated.

“Nan keeps saying it has to rain soon. After all, the Mother has always provided.” Faye bit her lip. “But it's been months, and not a drop.”

“Can't you use water from the well? I mean, that's what Grandfather is doing for our sheep.”

She brushed her fingers along the leaves one more time and shook her head. “I _could,_ but there's no telling how long the water will last. Until it rains again, that well has to sustain the whole village. In the worst case scenario... we can survive a season or two without grapes.”

The thought that they might not be able to enjoy a harvest this year sent a pang through her heart. She remembered digging through the soil, carefully planting the seeds and her delight at seeing the vines creeping up over the wooden slats.

That seemed so long ago, now.

A frustrated sigh came from behind her, and she turned to see Alm kicking at a pebble on the ground. “So we're just stuck waiting for the rain?”

“I guess so,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, what else can we do?”

He didn't respond immediately, and instead turned to stare off at the village entrance.

“If grandfather would just allow me to leave the village...”

Her own frown grew wider, as it always did whenever Alm brought that subject up – something that seemed to be happening more and more frequently, of late.

“I don't see how leaving the village will help,” she said, trying to keep her voice mild. “It won't make the rain fall or... well, anything really.”

“Well, I could earn money. Bring food back from other places where the drought hasn't been so bad. Heck, maybe beat some brigands up and turn them in for a reward.” Another sigh from Alm as he ran a hand through his hair. “It's better than just sitting here and doing _nothing_.”

And then, that look.

That look that always appeared on his face when he talked about wanting to go out, and go beyond the village. The subject matter could be different. Sometimes it was talk of stopping Rigel's incursions. Sometimes it was of more mundane matters like visiting the nearby towns and cities. And sometimes it was even of trying to track down where Celica had vanished off to.

But the look – the look never changed.

The look of a boy seeking something greater than himself.

The look that always made her heart ache and her fists clench.

She could understand the reasons Alm always gave for wanting to set foot outside the village. To be honest, she didn't know why Uncle Mycen had forbidden him from doing so – even preventing him from visiting the nearby outposts like Gray did.

But even if Alm wouldn't put it that way, the look in his eyes said what no words could.

At the end of day, the village wasn't enough for him. A life lived in the peace and quiet of Ram wasn't what he wanted.

And so, more and more, he looked to the gates of the village – and further beyond.

“Well, it's no use talking about that, Alm.” She worked to keep any hint of anxiety or worry out of her voice as she spoke. “Sir Mycen been very clear on that point, hasn't he?”

If anything, the frustration on his face only grew.

“... I don't want you to leave the village, either.” She whispered those words, soft enough that she knew Alm wouldn't hear.

_Look at me, Alm. Look at **me**. I'm here. I'm real._

_Why? Why do you... always have to be looking for some vague, distant dream on the horizon? Instead of what you have, right here and now?_

She wasn't a fool. Her words would never be able to quench the fire in his heart. She wouldn't be able to convince him that this was what he wanted.

And so all she could do was stand there, looking at Alm's back and knowing that one day, he would leave the village walls.

That one day, he would leave Faye behind.

(X)

The first thing that strikes Faye about the Sage's Hamlet is how ordinary the whole place looks.

Well, she didn't really have an idea in mind about the place before she had actually entered it. After all, while she's travelled through a large swathe of Rigel by now, most of it had been swampland, without any real population centres. So she didn't really have a point of comparison for what Rigellian dwellings would look like.

But though some of the design sensibilities are different, the most striking part of the village is how much it resembles the other villages Faye had already been to. There are houses with gardens dotting the place. Piles of lumber are stacked against the houses – more than normal, certainly, but Faye supposes that it's to be expected, what with the freezing climate of Northern Rigel. In the town square, people go about their lives. She sees children running about and playing, women chatting with each other as they draw water from the well. Two old men sit at the edge of the town square, heads bent over as they regard a game of some kind.

The only real difference is that the outer walls of the place are framed by rows of thick trees that provides a natural barrier between the village and the rest of the world. Well, this is supposed to be a hidden village, after all.

Faye finds herself relaxing as they step deeper into the town. It's the first place they've been to in a very long time that reminds her of home.

The approach of their entourage is met with stares and whispers. No one tries to stop them – she supposes it's because Conrad rides at the head of the party, making it clear that they are guests and not intruders. But the looks they give are unmistakeable – it's a disruption, some new and unexpected in this quiet village that sees very little of either.

Suddenly Faye remembers merchant caravans and travelling performers that had come to Ram in happier days, and she realizes what it's like to be on the receiving end of the stares and whispered speculation.

She smiles despite herself.

She sees Celica breaking away from the group to approach a person engaged in repairing a fence, and Faye follows as well, curious about what she's up to.

“Pardon me,” Celica says after a nod of greeting. “I wish to speak to the Sage Halcyon. May I know where to find him?”

“The sage?” The man glances up at her before he points to indicate a building at the far end of the town, larger than the others. “That'll be his home over there. But he's busy right now. I understand he's meditating on something.”

“That happens,” Conrad says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “Sometimes Halcyon gets so wrapped up in his studies he'll refuse all visitors no matter how urgent it is. If it's anything like the other times, he'll be ready to see you in a day or so.”

“... I see.” Celica cups her chin and nods. “Well, there's no rush. We could all use the rest.”

Faye is only too happy to agree with Celica on that point. The Hamlet is... comfortable. Homely. Nothing like the dreary countryside of Rigel or the stark, imposing fortresses used by the Duma Faithful, or even the bewildering maze of the Lost Treescape.

Yes, Faye thinks. Taking a rest here sounds like a wonderful idea indeed.

(X)

After the stares die down, the inhabitants of the Hamlet prove themselves to be accommodating folk, and they're quickly provided with what they need. Faye finds herself munching on some sort of vegetable wrap as she takes a short tour of the village, with Genny at her side.

“They have so many _books_!” Genny is so excited she's practically vibrating and Faye has to smile at her enthusiasm. “Not just spell books, but mythologies and novels too!”

“Well, I guess they call this place the Sage's Hamlet for a reason.” As she makes that idle remark, a thought enters her mind and she frowns. “Although, I do wonder why a bunch of people decided to make their home in a hidden village in the forest.”

“Yeah... it's a little odd,” Genny wrinkles her brow as a well as she turns to look at Faye. “I didn't really have a chance to ask about it either.”

“Well, maybe Celica knows something about it.” She takes another look over the rows of houses. _Or maybe Conrad. Didn't he say he used to live here while growing up?_

“Celica...?” Genny heaves a sigh. “Well, maybe.”

“Hm? Is something the matter with Celica?”

Genny frowns for a moment as her gaze travels to the distance. “Don't you think she's been more quiet and withdrawn lately? Ever since coming into Rigel?”

Had she? Faye has to admit with some embarrassment that she hadn't seen interacted much with Celica the first few days after entering Rigel. But even so, she does recall Celica often looking pensive and worried.

“I guess so, but... isn't that expected? After all, she's probably worried about Mila.”

“Maybe...” She kicks at a pebble. “We're all worried about Mila, though. But I guess Celica would feel it harder than most. After all, she's the princess.”

 _And she probably feels personally responsible for the wellbeing of Zofia._ Genny doesn't need to say it out loud. They both know it's true.

“Hm? Oh, it's Mae!” At Genny's call, Faye glances over and sees Mae walking at the opposite end of the town square. “I thought she wanted to go have a chat with Boey.”

“Well, it's been a while since the two of them went off,” Faye shrugs, “they've probably finished by now.”

As she observes Mae, Faye can't help but notice that something about her seems... different. Not in looks or anything, but... something about the way she's walking. Like she's stepping on clouds instead of solid earth.

“Say, Genny?” Faye raises an eyebrow. “Is it just me or is Mae-”

She's cut off midsentence as Mae twirls – she actually _twirls –_ midstep and makes a little hop at the end of it. And as she moves, Faye catches sight of the expression on her face – it's a serene smile, and she looks lost in her own little world.

“Acting a little strange?” Genny finishes the sentence for her, and Faye can only nod as the two of them watch her continue along the path, this time with an _actual_ skip in her step.

“Faye? And Genny!” A new voice comes from behind them and Faye turns to see Celica walking up to the two of them. “What's the matter?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Faye shrugs and glances over her shoulder – Mae had disappeared from sight by now. “I – we just saw Mae and she was... er, behaving oddly.”

“Oddly?” Celica tilts her head to the side slightly before her eyes widen for a moment and then she raises a hand to hide her chuckle. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?”

“I mean... did it seem like she was overjoyed? Lost in her own world, and walking on cloud nine, as they say?”

“Well... yeah.”

“Well, then it most probably means she and Boey have gotten each others answers.” Celica's smile is self-satisfied and more than a little mysterious.

“Answers?” Genny repeats before her eyes widen. “Oh. Oooooohh.” She claps her hands together and makes a noise that sounds like a hum of delight.

 _Answers?_ Faye blinks. _So, the way she's saying it, Boey and Mae are a..._ She tilts her head to the side, trying to digest this information. _Funny, they never struck me as a couple, what with them bickering all the time._

_But I guess it takes all sorts. And they always do look out for each other._

And in any case, she's not jealous of Mae for being able to find love during their journey.

No, not even a little. Not jealous at all.

She's barely able to rein in her sigh as she turns and follows Celica and Genny, the two of them chatting animatedly about how it had only been a matter of time before Boey and Mae got together.

_And so much for Celica being more quiet and withdrawn, huh, Genny?_

(X)

It's early evening by the time they return to the building they're staying in, and as Faye enters the room after Genny, she sees Sonya sitting by a mirrored table, setting out a variety of objects out on the polished wood.

“Oh, Sonya! Good evening,” Behind her, Celica gives her greeting before moving in as well. “What are you doing?”

Sonya turns and gives a wry smile as she regards the girls.

“Well, nice to see you all too. And as for this?” She sweeps her hand back to indicate the bottles on the table. “This is what the village has available in the way of makeup.”

“... Makeup?” It's not that Faye is unfamiliar with the concept, even though she hadn't ever seen very much of it back in the village. It just strikes her odd that this would be something Sonya sought out once they had made their way here.

“Indeed,” she nods as she picks up a bottle, “well, I'd never go so far as to call myself a connoisseur or anything of the sort, but I do like sampling the local wares whenever I get the chance. Everyone has their own unique touch, after all.” Then she pauses and tilts her head to the side. “Hold on, let me guess. None of you are familiar with makeup, are you?”

“Er... no.” Faye shakes her head. “I mean... it's not something we really cared about, back in Ram.”

“Us neither,” Genny says with a shrug. “I mean... in the priory, we weren't supposed to put too much importance on physical beauty.”

“Trust me, I know all about _that_. Wearing drab habits day in, day out. Looking as plain and ordinary as can be. Well, no more of that! As for me,” Sonya smiles as she holds up a tiny pouch, “I learned a long time ago that not making the most of your good looks is simply putting them to waste. I did assume Mila's adherents would be a bit more open to the idea, though.”

“We do believe that beauty is something to thank the Earth Mother for,” Celica says as she walks over to the bed and settles herself down on it. “But, well, there's more of an emphasis on natural beauty instead. I suppose that's different?”

There's a silence in the room for the moment before Sonya laughs.

“Oh, Celica! You really _have_ grown up sheltered, haven't you? No one who knows what they're doing uses makeup to _replace_ natural beauty. It's used to enhance what's already there.” A pause, and Faye can see a gleam enter Sonya's eyes. “Tell you what. Sit yourself down right here, and I'll give you a demonstration.”

“Eh, ah?” Celica blinks, and Faye can see a blush spread across her cheeks. “But, the time-”

“Oh, of course I won't have the time to give you the full treatment. But a little blush on the cheeks, and a little red on your lips can make all the difference.”

“I – I told you already,” Celica shook her head. “This sort of thing just gets in the way. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. Thanks for the offer.”

“Oh? Well, suit yourself.” Sonya shrugged and turned to Faye and Genny. “What about you two? The offer's still open.”

Her first impulse is to say no. After all, she's never been interested in that sort of thing. But a thought strikes Faye.

_People use make up to make themselves look prettier, right? If I were prettier... if I were able to make myself look nicer the next time Alm sees me..._

She sneaks a glance at Celica, who looks faintly amused at the whole thing now that the attention has been taken off her, and Faye feels a twinge.

Celica is beautiful. Far more beautiful than Faye, at any rate. There's no way for Faye to compare to her.

At least, not like she is.

“Sure!” she says as she steps forward. “I mean, it can't hurt to try.”

“Me too!” Genny says as well. “I mean... I'd like to try it at least once.”

“Hah. That's the spirit.” Sonya chuckles as she opens up a bottle and takes out a small brush. “All right, you two. Sit down over there and we'll see what we can do.”

As Faye sits in front of the mirror, Sonya busies herself with preparing her supplies. And despite her earlier protestations, Celica settles herself down on a nearby chair, watching closely. After a moment, Sonya leans down and she feels the feathered edges of a brush tickling her cheek.

“Hm...” Sonya.

“Is... something wrong?” Faye asks as she clamps down on the impulse to turn around and look at Sonya.

“Wrong? No, not exactly. It's just... well, your skin isn't as healthy as it could be. Then again, I suppose that's what trekking through deserts and swamplands will do if you're not careful about it.”

“You mean you've been looking after your looks even while on the move?” Faye did recall Sonya spending a lot of time to herself, but she hadn't guessed that it would be due to skincare.

“But of course! Beauty is a gift not everyone gets to enjoy, Faye.” She can hear the smirk in Sonya's voice as she continues her work. “So try not to do anything that would mar that pretty face of yours. Not being able to share beauty with the world does everyone a disservice. Yourself, included.”

 _Me? Pretty?_ She isn't sure how to respond to that. After a moment she figures that it's simply easier to keep quiet and let Sonya continue her work.

After a few minutes, Sonya says she's finished with the cheeks and they'll be moving on to the lips, but just then, Faye hears the sonorous clang of a bell in the distance. It's a strangely mournful sound, and Faye shifts slightly in her seat.

“Ah,” Sonya says without looking up. “I guess it's time for the evening prayers. Well, nothing to do with us.”

“Evening prayers?” Faye manages before Sonya brings the brush to her lips and she's forced to close her mouth.

“Yes. After all, this place is filled with the Duma Faithful. It's not like your worship of Mila – fellowship and prayers are strictly regimented, including the timings.”

 _Duma Faithful? Everyone here? But they all seem so... ordinary. Friendly._ She flashes back to the Faithful they had fought while traversing Rigel. Many of the men had glowing eyes, and skin cast in an unhealthy shade of blue. And there were usually Witches and Terrors backing up their numbers. She can't reconcile that image with the people living here.

“You didn't notice?” Even if she couldn't speak right then, it appeared Sonya had noticed the confusion in her eyes. “Well, I suppose it's not what you're used to, given all the crazies we've fought. But if you've been raised around the Faithful's iconography like me, it's easy to spot. The people here are all part of the devout.”

“I see.” She hears something like relief in Celica's voice. “I had been wondering...”

“What's with them trying to murder us and getting in our way at every turn, you mean?” Sonya sighs and frowns, but her hand is steady as she continues to coat Faye's lips. “It didn't use to be like this. I mean, I never was a fan of all the stuffiness and stoicism, but the priests weren't creepy and cackling at least. And the Witches. The Witches weren't around yet. Why it changed...” Sonya's face works for a moment, a flash of unguarded emotion making its way past her composed expression. “Well, never mind. I think we're all in agreement that it was for the worse. But if there's a pocket of sane worshippers out here in the sticks, well, good for them.”

Celica is silent. Out of the corner of her eye, Faye sees that she's started massaging her right hand again.

“And done!” Sonya steps back, and gives a satisfied nod. “Well, Faye what do you think?”

Faye looks at herself in the mirror, and the image is just unfamiliar enough to give her pause. Her lips have a shine to them she's never seen on herself before, and her cheeks appear... well, fuller. More filled with colour and life.

“I think you look radiant, Faye.” Celica says as she comes up behind her, a beaming smile on her face. “Positively beautiful.”

“Really?” The compliment seems sincere, but Faye isn't sure how Celica can make such a quick judgement of it when she herself isn't sure how to feel. But she takes it anyway, and tries to accept it in the spirit it was given. “Anyway, thanks so much, Sonya.”

“It was my pleasure.” She makes an elaborate curtsy before turning over to Genny. “Your turn, little one.”

“Okay!” Genny looks excited now – Faye supposes seeing Sonya's work on her has made her more eager to try it, and she stands, letting Genny take her place on the seat.

The evening wears on as the four of them remain in the room, watching as Sonya works and chatting amongst themselves.

(X)

The morning finds Faye at the stables, grooming Flora's coat. Catria and her sisters' pegasi are out, and Faye supposes that they're all out on training exercises. She has the stable all to herself as she works.

She hums a nameless tune as she works, and maybe it's just her imagination, but it seems that Flora enjoys the music too.

“Bet you don't like being cooped up here either, huh?” Faye says to Flora. Flora bats her eyelashes in seeming response. “Don't worry. Once I've got some free time, we can take to the skies again. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Behind her comes the sound of the stable doors opening.

“You in there, Dan? I swear, you're always – Oh! My mistake!” Faye looks up to see a girl about her age standing in the doorway. She's carrying a bow in one hand, and is hauling a small sack over her shoulder in the other.

“It's no problem.” Evidently she had expected to find someone else in the stables, but it's been empty save for her and Flora all morning.

She'd expected the other girl to leave immediately, but instead she leans the bow against the wall and tosses the sack down onto the dirt.

“Wow, aren't _you_ a beauty!”

Faye blinks at that statement, but when she looks up again it becomes apparent that the girl is staring at Flora, a gleam of interest in her eyes as she walks closer.

“Er, careful.” Faye speaks up before the girl can get too close. “Flora... still isn't that comfortable around strangers.” There hadn't been any incidents since the first day, and Flora seemed happy to let Catria and Est help with taking her flying equipment on and off, but she was still clearly uncomfortable around Celica and Genny, only letting them tie bags to her because of Faye's explicit consent.

“Oh? Shame.” The girl sighs and brushes strands of messy brown hair out of her eyes. “Don't see many pegasi around these parts.” Then she looks back to Faye and a wide smile splits her face. “Hey, you're with the group that came yesterday, aren't you? The Mila priestess and her friends? Nice to meet you!” She holds out a hand that's positively covered in dirt and grime.

Faye blinks, unsure of how to respond. Up until now she hadn't had much chance to interact with Rigelians (save for Sonya, she supposed). And from what she'd heard about them and their god, she'd always pictured them as being more... well, dour and standoffish. Not like the enthusiastic girl smiling at her.

“I, um... hi.” She finally blurts out and she averts her gaze again. “It's... nice to meet you too.” _I guess?_

If the girl is put off by her tepid response, it doesn't show at all as she snaps her fingers and dips one hand into the satchel hanging by her side.

“Here! I bet your pegasus would love this!” And Faye realizes she's holding up a bright red apple to her. “I'd give it myself, but you said it's not comfortable around others, yeah?”

“Well, yes. Er... thanks.” Faye takes the apple from her and gazes at it for a second. It's not very big – only a little larger than her fist, but the vibrant colour indicates that it's still fresh.

“I was out hunting and foraging today, and wouldn't you know it, I stumbled on a tree that's still bulging with fruit.” The girl continues to talk as Faye draws her knife and cuts the apple up, feeding it to Flora in smaller chunks. “Lucky find too, especially in this season. In fact it's been uncommon easy to get ahold of food this past few months. Well, count our blessings. Specially in this drought.”

When the apple is finished, Flora tosses her head and whinnies, a sound of delight. Faye finds herself smiling as she wipes her hands on her skirt.

“Flora would like to thank you for the treat,” she says with a grin. And the girl grins back.

“My pleasure, ah... er, where's my manners gone off to? I didn't even ask your name!”

“I'm Faye.” She says as she holds out a hand. Well, they're introducing themselves properly now, so even if delayed a handshake is probably the way to go. “Faye of Ram Village. It's... well, pretty far south.”

“Never heard of it!” A laugh and an enthusiastic pump of her hand. “Name's Layna! I'm from Strand. Leastaways I used to be...” Suddenly her smile has a sharp, brittle edge to it, “but last I heard the village's been replaced by a big pile of poison swamp. So I guess if I'm from anywhere now it's the Sage's Hamlet. I'm the apprentice to the local blacksmith.”

“O – oh. That's – I'm sorry.”

“Nah, don't be. Everyone got out while the going was good. And anyway it's not like you had anything to do with it.” Quick as the strained look had appeared, it's vanished, and Layna is now massaging her neck with one hand as she looks over at Flora again.

“Say, Faye?” Layna speaks again after a moment.

“Huh?” Faye has to admit to feeling a little disoriented. Layna's speech is clipped and fast-paced, and she seems capable of holding three conversations at once, flitting from topic to topic with barely any transition. Just talking to her leaves her feeling slightly short of breath. “What is it?”

“I don't wanna step on your toes or anything, but... are you, er, not too experienced with Flora yet?”

Faye blinks. It's been a while, so she wouldn't say she was an expert or anything, but... “Well, we've been together for a couple of months...”

“Figures. And you probably weren't used to grooming horses before that either?”

“Wha – am I doing something wrong?”

“Well, not _wrong_ wrong. But, well, you could stand to be a bit more thorough.” Another quick sweep to brush hair out of her eyes, and Layna points to several spots on Flora's fur. “The way you're brushing, you'll leave out some of the smaller twigs or seeds that get hooked to the fur. And the fur itself won't be that smooth either.”

“O-oh...” Catria had observed her first few grooming sessions, offering some tips and helping her once. But after a while duty and training had called and she'd had less time to spend with Faye on such sessions instead of the flying lessons that Catria still dutifully made time for.

“Aw, don't make a face like a kicked puppy!” Layna raises an eyebrow. “You make me feel all bad. Don't worry! If you're new at this, you'll get better with time and practice.”

“Okay....” Faye lets out a sigh. There're a lot of things to learn. She'll just have to get better at them. Then a thought strikes her, and she frowns.

“Er, Layna? So... you know about grooming horses and livestock?”

A good natured laugh. “Well, I'm adequate, I guess? I always did love horses since I was just a sprout. But well, taking care of your beasts is just something that's good to learn.”

“Oh, I was just wondering...” Faye shrugs. “I thought you said you were an apprentice blacksmith.”

“Oh, that? Yeah,” she nods and snaps her fingers. “I'm still not a patch on the boss, but she's been in this for years and years now.” Then a blink and a raised eyebrow. “What? You're saying that like it's odd for me to be able to be a blacksmith _and_ know how to take care of a horse.”

“No, no! It's not odd at all!” Faye raises her hands quickly to forestall an accusation that might not have been coming anyway. “It's more...” She takes a quick glance at the bow Layna had left leaning against the doorway. The sack next to it is bulging, and it becomes clear that Layna has just returned from a successful hunt as well. “You seem pretty good at a lot of things. I'm more... admiring you than anything else.”

Layna's confused expression remains on her face. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be? 'What strength lies in these hands', and all that.”

The way she rattled off the line shows she'd expected Faye to recognize it as a reference to something, but Faye is left hopelessly in the dark about what that means. After a moment, Layna's eyes widen and she smacks herself on the forehead.

“Oh, I'm an idiot. I forgot you're from Zofia. 'Course you wouldn't be familiar with the scriptures. Er, our scriptures, I mean. I'm sure you've memorized Mila's words cover to cover already.”

Faye hasn't, not even close. But there's no reason (or time) to mention that right now as Layna launches into her explanation.

“See, here in Rigel, Lord Duma preaches self-sufficiency. Forming communities and working together is all well and good. But at one point or another, people can't always help each other. Maybe they got their own troubles. Maybe you screwed up something with them and they don't _want_ to help you. Or maybe you're just stuck and alone somewhere. In times like those, you can either huddle into a little ball and cry, or you knuckle down and solve your problems on your own.”

“So... are you saying you can't rely on others?” She'd always heard that the crux of Duma's teachings was how nothing was earned without effort, and it didn't seem like a pleasant philosophy at all.

“Sure you can!” Layna flashes her an easy smile. “It's how we learn and grow, after all. But at the end of the day, when the chips are down, you need to be able to rely on yourself too. So, yeah,” she nods and sweeps her arms out, “you said I'm good at lots of things? That's how most of us are, here in the Duma Faithful. 'Course everyone differs a little in hobbies, and whatnot. But we try to cast a wide net in terms of abilities, so we're never caught unprepared for anything.” The long explanation seems to have tired her out somewhat; she reaches for the water skin at her side and takes a long drink.

“Oh, so that's what Duma's teaching is about?”

“Well... more or less. Leastaways it used to be. And there's all sorts of other stuff in there too, but if you're gonna put it in a nutshell, he wants us to grow strong, and to be able to stand on our own two legs.”

The way Layna explains it, well... it seems to make sense, at least to Faye. Celica had taught her about the two gods, but her knowledge about Duma was incomplete, working off fragmentary scriptures recovered from days before the Divine Accord. Hearing it from the horses' mouth, as it were, it seems almost... mundane. Common sense.

_Were the differences between Duma and Mila really so severe it required the Divine Accord?_

“Heh,” Faye laughs to herself.

“What? Something funny about what I said?”

“No, not really.” Faye shakes her head. “I just... well, I never met many Duma Faithful before today, so I always had the idea that you were all... er,” Faye can't find an accurate descriptor that's also polite, but Layna seems to understand and she nods.

“You thought we were all hardasses who wouldn't know how to smile or laugh if our lives depended on it.” She finishes the thought and Faye can only shrug, not wanting to deny it. “Well I'm not gonna deny there's more than a few of those types around here. But, hey. It takes all sorts.” Suddenly her green eyes twinkle with mirth and she leans in closer, cupping her hand for a conspiratorial whisper. “Hey, Faye. Wanna hear a secret?”

“Er... okay?”

“I'm not any different. Before yesterday I had the idea that all Mila devotees had to be soft and useless. After all your Earth Mother provides everything for you so you never have to lift a finger. But then I met you guys. That leader of yours? She's got steel in her spine. Not just anyone charges all across the continent to chase their goals. She's not someone I could ever call weak.”

And Faye can only smile and nod. “That's Celica, all right.”

“Yeah.” Suddenly Layna knocks her on the shoulder but there's no force behind the blow, and her smile is encouraging. “And unless I've read you all wrong, you're cut from the same cloth as the priestess. So chin up, Faye. If you're Mila's representatives, then she should be proud to have you in her corner!”

And before she can properly respond to that – _oh please, that's not true. You haven't seen enough of me to tell –_ Layna's already walking back out the stable, reaching down to grab her sack and bow in one smooth motion. “Sorry, gotta go! The boss will have my head if I'm any later!”

She runs out of the stables, and leaves Faye alone to ponder.

(X)

The second evening in the Hamlet is much like the first. Faye takes a walk through the town square, watching the glow of candles and torches in the distance, and ponders home.

Suddenly she hears Layna's voice calling to her, and she blinks, coming to a halt as she watches the villager – her new friend? - run up to her.

“Hey, Faye! Sorry to foist this on you, but the boss asked me to deliver this to your leader. Figured you'd know where to find her.”

She hands over a finely wrapped package, and Faye can tell that it's-

“A sword?”

“Yeah. She came by yesterday and the boss took one look at her weapon and said that she could restore it back to its full strength. Apparently it was an ancestral weapon of some kind? Sorry, but I didn't catch the details. Anyway, you can let Celica know that the Beloved Zofia's is back and better than ever!”

Faye nods as she holds the weapon up, observing it closely. She's trained enough in magic to sense the power that hums within. “All right. Thanks very much, Layna. I'll be sure to pass this to her.”

“Thanks!” Layna doesn't make to leave though, and after a moment she coughs. “So, er, Faye.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“It just now occurred to me that the way I approached you back in the stables might have been a tad... abrupt.”

“Hm? Oh, well... I was a little surprised, but it's fine, really!” And it's true. Sure it had taken a bit to get used to Layna's activeness and mode of speech, but after that it had been fine talking to her. Pleasant, even.

“Yeah? That's a relief. But, truth is... well, I was a little excited, I guess.” Suddenly, Faye realizes that Layna's face is downcast. “To see other girls my age.

“Truth is, I'm one of the lucky ones. There aren't many young women in the Sage's Hamlet. Or – well, most of Western Rigel, really. Most of them...” she swallows. “Well, you've seen the Witches, I guess. It'd be kinda hard to miss them if you've walked all the way up from Zofia.”

Faye's eyes widen. _The Witches are_ _all..._ _? But that... that means..._

Layna's bows her head, and Faye sees her fists are clenched. “Nobody likes to talk about it. But... we all know something's gone wrong with the Duma Faithful. I'm no sage or priest or... anything, really. I don't know how to fix what happened. But... you lot are headed to Duma's Tower too, aren't you? I heard Sir Conrad talking about that.” She pauses, takes a deep breath. “It feels so weird to ask outsiders about this. But please... if you can, find out what's happening to Lord Duma. And... if you can... help him, too.”

(X)

Asking around the rest of the party had led to the discovery that Celica had finally managed to arrange a meeting with Halcyon, the leader of the Hamlet. And so Faye had trudged down there as well, the newly remade sword strapped to her shoulder, and Layna's words roiling in her mind.

Something was wrong with Duma... and Mila had been brought to Duma's Tower as well. The entire mess swirls in her mind, growing bigger and more disquieting with every step she takes.

 _Celica will be able to make sense of all this... I hope._ She sees lights streaming out of the sage's house, and she quickens her pace. _Should I wait for the meeting to finish before I speak to her?_

She's almost through the doorway of the house when there's a flash of light from within, and Faye blinks as she feels a surge of magic.

She pauses, unsure if she should proceed or not. She doesn't _sense_ any danger...

“...lica? Celica, is that... is that you?”

Faye stands as if turned to stone. That voice...

That voice!

_ALM!_

Something in her tells her not to reveal herself, and she presses herself against the stone walls of the house. The windows are open, and it's from the closest one that she can hear the voices.

“What is... is this an illusion?” Alm's voice again, a confused note to it. “I can't... touch you.”

“Yes, I met Sage Halcyon.” Celica's voice now. “He's... oh, explaining would take too long. But his magic allowed me to contact you like this.”

“Oh... well, however it happened, I'm so glad I was able to see you, Celica!” Suddenly Faye realizes her fists are balled.

“I... me too, Alm. But I...” suddenly the sound of a sob, and despite herself Faye bites her lip.

“Celica? What's wrong? Why are you crying? What happened? Did something go wrong? Look, I can... argh! I wish I was wherever you are now. Please don't cry.” She can hear the urgent concern in Alm's voice and her heart hammers even faster in her chest.

“You... you're not mad at me? When we met at Zofia Castle, I said all those... terrible things to you.”

“What? You mean you've been worried about that this whole time? Look, I... I wasn't happy we couldn't see eye to eye, of course. But I'm not angry at you.” A pause, and then his voice again, softer and warmer. “I could _never_ be mad at you, Celica.”

Eight words.

One line.

Something tightens within Faye, and she lets out an involuntary gasp.

The _way_ he said it. His voice. The warmth. The concern. The sincere and open affection.

Suddenly, she knows. Beyond the shadow of a doubt.

_All those years we've lived together... all the time we've spent together..._

Alm had never.

Not once.

_Alm has **never** spoken to me like that before._

She closes her eyes, leans her head back, feels the cold stone of the wall against her neck.

So, that was it then.

Alm didn't love Faye.

Alm loved Celica.

_It was only to be expected. After all... it's Celica we're talking about, here. She's so beautiful, so graceful. How was I ever supposed to compete with that?_

She takes a deep breath, tries to calm her heart, hammering in her chest.

_They knew each other all those years ago. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it? They must have been longing to see each other again after all these years._

_It's all right._

Another deep breath.

_It's all right. So Celica wins. That's fine._

_That's fine._

_I'm not that selfish. I'm not that horrible. If I can't win, I can at least lose gracefully._

Another deep breath, and Faye releases it in a sigh.

_And anyway, there are bigger things to worry about. Duma's... well, something's wrong with his Faithful. And Mila is still missing, and a prisoner._

_So yes. It's not like this can't take a backseat for a while. I can sort this all out... later._

_Later._

_Thats fine._

Faye shakes her head once, moves to pull herself to her feet. _Celica will want to know that her swords' been reforged. I should-_

Plip.

She looks down at her hand.

There, on the knuckle of her right thumb.

A tiny splash of water.

 _Tears?_ Faye blinks, and she feels a trace of cold water run down her cheek. _Why? Am I... crying?_

No.

_No._

_I can't be **crying**._

_Not over this!_

Her shoulders tremble. Her breaths come faster and faster.

Her throat tightens, and she feels a burning in the back of her eyes.

_No. No! **No!**_

_It's not important! There are bigger things to worry about! I can't be-_

_I mustn't be-!_

_So... selfish-_

Thoughts dissolve in a flood of pain. Her shoulders shudder violently and Faye pitches forward, landing on her knees as she feels her stomach heave. Her hands are pressed to her face to muffle her sobs, and her tears can no longer be held back even as she screws her eyes shut.

Faye weeps.

She doesn't know how long she remains there, or how long she would have stayed like that under other circumstances. But suddenly, through the fog of her grief, she hears her name being called.

“...Faye!” Celica. Celica had called her name. But she was still inside, and her voice was still distant.

“Faye?” Alm's voice. More confused, now.

“I completely forgot to let her know about this! I was just too excited to see you again. I'll go call her now – she'll be overjoyed to get a chance to talk with you after so long!”

An icy dagger buries itself in Faye's heart. Suddenly, she finds herself scrambling to her feet.

“I'm afraid not.” An older voice now, one she's not familiar with. “The spell won't last long enough for you to find her and bring her back.”

She doesn't want to stay to hear the outcome of that conversation. She runs, stumbling as she goes, into the gloom of the night.

(X)

She runs until she realizes she has to stop, and she doubles over, hands on knees, panting for breath as she feels her lungs burn and heart ache.

She doesn't know how she feels now. It might be for the better she doesn't know. It might be better if she doesn't feel at all.

She's in between two stone houses that look almost identical. She leans against a wall of one, closes her eyes, and focuses on breathing.

“Faye? What on earth are you doing out here?”

Leon's voice. Faye wants to scream. Is _everything_ going to wrong at once tonight? She doesn't want to see anyone right now.

“I'm fine.” She keeps her response short, doesn't raise her head to look at him. Maybe that'll be enough to keep him fooled. Or at least leave her alone.

“What happened?” Of course not. She would never be so lucky.

He walks closer to her, concern showing all over his features. And Faye has to wonder how she looks at that moment, leaning against a wall, gasping for breath, tear stains clearly visible down her cheeks. She raises her hand and scrubs angrily at her eyes.

“Nothing. I said I'm fine.” She's being snippy. She doesn't care. Right now she wants Leon to leave her alone.

“No, you're not.” Leon shakes his head and sighs. “Look, even if you don't want to talk about it, let's go to my room. You're not doing yourself any good out here, and we'll be away from curious eyes there.”

It's not a great alternative, but better than anything she can think of, and so Faye silently allows Leon to bring her indoors, and she sits in a chair, huddled up in a blanket as he brews some tea for her.

Finally, he hands her a cup, and she lifts it to her lips, feeling the hot drink warm her throat and belly as she sips.

“Just take it slowly,” Leon says when he retrieves the empty mug. “Take the time you need.”

The black tightness in her chest hasn't settled or loosened any, and so Faye shakes her head and looks away. “I'm just... feeling lousy right now.”

Technically not a lie. She just has a very specific reason for her to be feeling this way.

Leon doesn't reply for a moment, and Faye gets the feeling that he's measuring his reply. “Well, whatever it was that made you feel 'lousy', as you put it... you were running from the direction Celica had went off to, and I can't help but notice you haven't passed that sword over to her yet.”

Ugh. Of course Leon would have noticed. She'd asked him about Celica, after all.

“I...” She opens her mouth, closes it again, and licks her lips. “She was talking to someone.”

Leon remains silent. She doesn't know why, but all of a sudden she just feels that if she doesn't talk, she'll burst.

“The Sage... was able to make some sort of spell – I don't know what it was. She was able to contact...” She pauses, swallows _._ “The Deliverance. To let each other know they were okay. I decided not to disturb her.”

“The Deliverance?” Leon does raise an eyebrow now. “I guess it's good to know they're still in one piece and moving along. But that hardly explains... well,” he shrugs, “why didn't you just wait until after the conversation before talking to her.”

“The mood was wrong.” She's starting to _remember_ now, to recall the voices that floated up at her from the window, and she feels pain and anger spiking in her. “I mean, the way Celica spoke, telling Alm she was all overjoyed to see him again and...” she trails off as she realizes what she just said.

“... Alm?” Leon pauses. “You mean, the boy you...”

So that was it then. No point in keeping up pretences any longer. Faye looks to the side and speaks, trying to get the words out quickly before she can think about them. “Yes, the boy I love! And as it turns out, he doesn't love _me_. He loves Celica instead! And who can blame him? After all those years...” she feels her the clawing sensation in her heart, forcing her to break off her rant and to gasp for breath. “I don't... I'm not... anyone special to him. Not at all!”

She'd thought she'd felt painful and forlorn outside Sage Halcyon's house. But here, sitting in a comfortable room telling Leon about all this, somehow makes the agony spike all the greater, and Faye squeezes her eyes shut so hard she can see bright flashes behind her eyelids.

A long silence. And then Leon speaks. His words come out slowly, obviously trying to avoid pressing down on open wounds.

“Faye... look. I understand how you feel.”

Later, she can't explain why those words made her react the way they do. Why they make her see red, make her blood boil.

Maybe it is true.

Maybe she is selfish.

Maybe, even wallowing in her own pain and grief, she wants to be able to cling on to this, to insist that _her_ devotion is special. That what she feels for Alm _can't_ be understood or equalled by anyone else.

But for whatever reason, her mouth opens, and the venom flows.

“No, you don't!” She sees Leon's eyes widen. “Valbar doesn't love you, and you know that, and you can _smile_ at that! You can say it's fine, that all you need to do is to be able to make him happy to be content yourself! You can _give up_ and say that's it's okay! I'm not like that! I'm not like you!

“And so maybe you can _delude_ yourself into thinking you're _happy_ even if Valbar doesn't love you, but _**I CAN'T!**_ ”

The silence is deafening. The two of them stare at each other, aghast.

A long moment passes. Neither moves.

Faye gasps for air, and feels icy dread clutching her spine. Her anger burns itself out almost instantly, and in its place is only grey ash and fear.

“Leon, I...” Her mouth is dry. Her words, her planned apology, wither on her tongue.

Suddenly, a sharp intake of breath from him. He swallows hard, nods once. His lips are drawn tight, and Faye can see that they are pale. And then, without a word, he turns on his heels and leaves the room. The door is left open behind him.

Faye remains, sitting amidst the screaming silence.

Alone.

(X)

She doesn't know how long she sits there before she picks herself up from the chair. But she knows that Leon's room is no longer a refuge, and so straightens. Mechanically, she folds the blanket Leon had given her, leaving it on his bed before she stumbles out the room, her limbs all feeling like they're made of wood.

She wants to cry still. But her eyes burn and throat aches, and she suspects that she's all out of tears at the moment.

Once out in the freezing night air, she continues to wander aimlessly. Subconsciously, she steers herself away from the torches and lights that show others are still active at this late hour. She doesn't want to run into people now.

The moon is still shining brightly when Faye later comes to her senses, and she realizes she's on the outskirts of the town, in the middle of a clump of trees.

Suddenly, she feels so utterly exhausted and she slumps against the sturdy bark and closes her eyes.

And then, voices.

Faye blinks, but doesn't move. The voices get closer.

The sound of footsteps up the path that leads outside the village.

“Father Nomah.” The old voice from the house earlier. “It does my heart good to see you again.”

“As it does mine. It's been nearly a decade hasn't it, Halcyon?”

“Nine years since I was exiled.” A heavy sigh. “In any case, I apologize for the long walk out here, but I wanted to discuss this matter with you, away from prying ears.”

“Oho! Don't be ridiculous. These old bones have all but crossed the continent already. What's a few more metres?”

Faye doesn't move. She barely dares to breath.

“On to business, then. If you allowed the princess to make that journey to the Temple in the first place, then I can only presume that you suspected it was happening to Mila too?”

“... I did. I'd hoped for a report from her about Mila's behaviour and state of mind, but... well. It appears Rudolf had the both of us beaten to the punch.”

“And now she's chased Mila almost to Duma's Tower.” Another long pause. “Does she suspect it herself?”

“I doubt so. After all, not many know that the degeneration is even something to be wary of in the first place. But, Halcyon. I'd wanted to ask ever since I learned you now live in the Sage's Hamlet...”

“Yes, the rumours you heard were true. Jedah won the power struggle and had me exiled. Under his rule... well, the Duma Faithful at large became what you see now. Only a few continue to worship him in the old ways.” A long sigh. “So few...”

“And from the way you are speaking... then Duma...”

“I cannot say that as a fact, of course.” A pause. “But almost certainly so. I did what I could to soothe him during my years as leader of the Faithful, but under Jedah's rule... I fear that Lord Duma's madness might have consumed him entirely by now.”

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

For a variety of reasons, I found this chapter difficult to write. Partly it's the subject matter of what happens during this chapter itself (and laying the groundwork for what's going to happen next chapter) and partly it's me trying to tighten up my own writing style.

Also I wrote a lot about makeup and I don't know the first thing about makeup. Then again this is one of the last chapters where the team have a real chance to kick back and relax before the endgame, so I want to make the most of it.

Layna's an Original Character that I wanted to make for the purposes of fleshing out more of Duma's philosophy and worldview. Despite calling him the 'War Father' and all that, Duma can't be entirely focused on the fighting and combat, because with the Divine Accord in place, Rigel doesn't actually have anyone to fight _against,_ so their philosophy has to be able to translate to day to day living. And not just in the 'work hard for your food' and 'misery builds character' way. For the record, I really wish the game had given us a devout Duma-worshipping Rigelian as a playable so we could get more canonical insight into Duma's philosophy. (Tatiana is a Mila worshipper and Conrad comes close I guess but he's written as 'Celica's brother' first and 'raised under Sage Halcyon and Duma's teaching' a distant second.)

Faye's reaction here is a lot stronger than what was shown in her A Support with Alm, but given everything we know of her, my headcanon is that first, by the time they enter Rigel Faye already knows that her dream with Alm is never going to come true, even if she refuses to admit it until that point, and secondly, she would make it a point to look strong in front of Alm no matter how she felt inside. So here the shock is bigger, and her reaction stronger.

Also the last third of this chapter was... er, rather emotionally draining to write, to say the least.

I hope you all enjoyed it. Comments and criticisms are most welcome.


	10. When She Continued to Follow Celica's Path

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

For a moment, there is silence. Faye feels a knot in her stomach as she sits and waits, her back against the tree. The words they use when speaking of Duma are dark and ominous, and she's not sure how to react to intruding on a private conversation of such heavy matter. And so, she doesn't, simply sitting and listening.

“I see...” Nomah's voice once more, this time slow and heavy. “In that case, it is possible that our journey to Duma's Tower may be even more perilous than I had feared.”

“Yes. I can only wonder how Mila herself fares. No one else has heard from her since Rudolf staged his assault on the Temple.”

A long, slow sigh. “And the reports say he brought the Falchion with him too. One wonders where it is now.”

“Nomah...” And Faye can tell there's an edge to the old man – Halcyon's – voice now. “If you speak so openly of the Falchion, then do you believe it's needed, after all?”

“Who can say? I didn't want to consider the possibility, but the thought has gnawed at my mind ever since Mila withdrew her bounty. And now you say that Duma might be lost to madness too.” A pause, pregnant with expectation. “Was it not for this very reason that the Kingsfang was forged?”

The words lodge in Faye's mind like cold molasses, and she only understands in a distant, detached manner that the two men are speaking of bearing weapons against Mila. Against Duma.

Against the gods.

“Yes, it was. I...” a sigh, and Halcyon sounds impossibly weary, “cannot deny the possibility. Yet, I have no information on where the Falchion is. We know Rudolf brought it with him to Mila's Temple. But after that, there are no records of where it rests now.”

“Hrmph. Well, regardless, the princess' path will not change. We must still make for Duma's Tower, if only to confirm the truth with our own eyes.”

“I see. Well, for my part, I'll continue trying to locate the Falchion. After all, if worst comes to worst...”

“Yes. Only that which comes from a dragon can slay a dragon.” A sucking sound, like an intake of breath, before Nomah's voice continues, his words heavy. “If Duma is lost to madness as we fear, then Falchion will be needed, for what comes next.”

The two men dance around the subject with their words, and the knot in her gut only tightens. Why – weren't they on a mission to _rescue_ Mila? When had it turned – how had the issue suddenly become dragon madness and – and godslaying?

It takes all her self control not to let her breath come out in harsh rasps.

“Will you tell the princess?”

There is a silence for a long moment. Then, “I don't doubt the heart of any one of them who came on this journey. Nor their faith. But if it were to come out that the foundations of Valentia itself may be beginning to crumble...”

“And yet, they may soon come face to face with that knowledge regardless.”

“If and when that time comes, we can better prepare ourselves. Plans are better made in the face of truth, not fearful speculation. As long as no one does anything rash, seeing the truth of the matter with our own eyes is probably for the best. Celica places so much faith in the Mother... I don't want her to worry any more than she needs to.”

“I cannot deny events are taking a life of their own.” Halcyon's voice is weary now. “Children, bearers of the brands, coming of age. The gods, sitting silent in their temples as the Divine Accord is shattered. What is to happen now? The princess is so burdened... so very burdened.”

“Her sense of duty is admirable. Yet that same sense of duty might lead her to shouldering more than she can bear.” Nomah's voice trails off. “I'm worried for her, Halcyon.”

“So am I. Yet we can only trust in her strength – and in the support her friends would give her now in this fateful hour.”

“Indeed. Then, at first light, we make for Duma's Tower.”

“I am sorry. I would come with you, but my magic is all that keeps the Hamlet safe from Jedah's predations. I can do nothing but pray for your safety now. ”

“You've already given us more than enough aid, Halcyon.” The voices take a lighter tone and begins to fade in the distance – and Faye gradually realizes that they two sages are walking away.

Faye is left alone, in the cold and in the dark.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, her heart hammering in her chest. Finally, she pulls herself to her feet, and begins to walk in the direction of the Hamlet.

Her footsteps feel hazy, as if they are sinking into clouds instead of solid earth. More than once, she stumbles even though the path is wide and even.

Finally, she makes it to her room – a distant corner of her mind notes that Genny is already curled up in her cot – and crumples onto the bed. She lies there and squeezes her eyes shut, and she can only wonder what the future the bring.

(X)

_The first time Faye nearly ruins her friendships, she is fifteen and sitting out in the summer sun as she prepares to mend a tear in one of Alm's shirts._

_She hums a tune to herself as she carefully threads her needle. She is just about to begin sewing when she hears the sound of footsteps approaching._

“ _Yo, Faye!” Gray is there, and he waves to her with a smile on his face. Her hands are occupied, but she raises her face and gives him a smile and a quick nod in greeting before returning to her work. “What are you up to?”_

“ _What's it look like? I'm mending Alm's shirt.” This morning, Alm had stumbled while practising his parries, and had fallen against the fence. When he had gotten to his feet again, a large tear across the back was visible to all._

_Uncle Mycen had grumbled about needing to repair the fence again, to remove splinters and tears, and of course Alm had volunteered to help. Faye smiles at the memory. Alm was always so thoughtful._

“ _Yeah... that's the shirt he was wearing earlier on, right?”_

“ _Yup!” She shakes her head before making the first stitch. “Honestly, he needs to be more careful. If he'd fallen just a little to the left he could have seriously hurt himself!”_

_A sardonic chuckle from Gray as he flopped onto the ground, leaning against another fencepost with hands tucked behind his head. “Ooh, wouldn't that be a sight to see. Alm, lying on the ground bleeding. And of course, you'd be right there, fussing over him and trying to bandage him up.”_

“ _Well, of course I'd be.” She raises an eyebrow at Gray's remark. “And why wouldn't I? Is there anything wrong with that?”_

“ _No, I wouldn't say wrong...” Gray scratches at his chin. “More... predictable?'_

“ _Predictable,” she repeats, and her hands lower as she lifts her head to look at him._

“ _Well, yeah.” He raises a hand, waves it carelessly in her direction. “I mean, look at you now. Alm gets his shirt torn and you're fixing it for him on the same day. Bet he barely had to ask once.”_

“ _He didn't ask,” she says primly, and her needle jabs hard into the tough material of his shirt, for emphasis. “I volunteered to help him mend it.”_

_She remembers the feeling – the happiness of knowing that she could help Alm. That she could be useful to him._

_A moment of silence passes. Gray scratches at the back of his head._

“ _Faye, look... I didn't really want to bring it up, but...” he lets out his breath in a tired sigh. “You ever think that maybe you're a little too hung up on Alm?”_

_She stops pretending to sew and instead lifts her head to regard Gray, eyes narrowed. “Explain.”_

“ _Look, it's no secret you like him,” a frown crosses Gray's face, “except maybe from Alm himself. He can be like a brick sometimes. And honestly, good for you. Could do a lot worse. But... sometimes it's like your whole life just revolves around Alm, you know? I don't think that's healthy.”_

_The two of them are fifteen and older than the other Ram kids – although the distinction has grown less important once they all hit double digits. Still, as they approach adulthood there are concepts they know vaguely exist and can even begin to understand, but that they cannot articulate or express well._

_Perhaps this is one such time._

_Faye's glare hardens and her hand's bunch into fists around the fabric of Alm's shirt as she feels a spike of anger._

_Anger at the accusation that she is guilty of liking Alm too much – as if there could ever be such a thing. Anger that she can't find it in her to say that Gray is completely wrong, and anger at Gray for bringing it up like that so casually._

_And anger at the vague realization that yes, she had been spending less and less time with the rest of her village friends, especially of late. Time spent hanging around Alm, making things for Alm, or trying to get his attention meant less time on other things._

“ _Are you jealous or something?” she snaps, now on the defensive and her guard raised. “I don't hang out enough with you, is that it?”_

“ _I'm just saying,” Gray raises his hands in a 'calm down' gesture, one that utterly fails to make Faye feel any more calm. “Look, remember that time I got my pants torn? I'll admit I pestered you to help me with fixing it 'cause you're the best of all of us at needlework-”_

“ _That's what this is about?” She stands, the shirt and sewing work forgotten. “You're mad that you need to ask to get your things fixed when Alm doesn't?”_

_Gray stands too, and his mouth is drawn in a thin line. “Don't be stupid. This isn't about me, and you know that sewing thing is just an example. Look, have you been able to hold a conversation this past week without bringing up Alm? With your parents, even?”_

_And she flushes, biting hard at her lip because of course what Gray is saying is true and she can't deny it. Not that she's spoken much to anyone of late, but whenever she does it's usually wondering how Alm would like something or how he'd perform at that task instead. She turns away, not willing to let Gray see the expression on her face._

“ _What's it to you?”_

“ _What – Faye, I just said! Something like that isn't healthy! Even if you like Alm, that's not how you behave around someone!”_

“ _And I suppose you're the expert on relationships now, what with you trying to flirt with all other girls in the village?” Gray winces a little, but before he can make a response, Faye has already stooped to gather her sewing materials as her face burns. “That's enough. I'm leaving.”_

“ _Wha- Hey! Faye, wait!”_

_She doesn't stop to respond, choosing instead to storm back to her house and is only prevented from slamming the front door by the fact that her arms are full. She throws her sewing work onto the table and falls onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ignore Gray's words and the ring of truth in them._

(X)

The dawn is grey, the few feeble rays that make it past the thick cover of clouds doing little to dispel the gloom of early morning.

Faye stands there, staring at the ground in front of her. The dirt has been trampled smooth by countless feet that have trodden on the path ahead of her, and the road is wide. Her destination – their destination – lies ahead.

That road should be easy to follow, shouldn't it?

She stands and stares at the path. Her mind is a mess of chaotic, jumbled thoughts, all of it mixing together in a dark whirlpool.

Alm. Celica. Leon. Duma. Mila. Alm. Madness. Celica. Gods.

She can't pick any of them apart to focus on something. She can't even begin to try – just thinking about it makes her chest tighten and her breathing come faster.

The road should be easy to follow. She knows the path they have to take.

And yet, taking a single step forward now seems almost beyond her strength.

“Hey, Faye!” a shout from behind her snaps her out of her thoughts, and she turns.

“Layna? What's the matter?”

“I was hoping to catch you before you left,” she says in response as she nears. “I kinda thought you'd be with the others – I mean, they're all in the town square packing up and all.”

That's right, she suddenly realizes. She should be with the others. She should be helping them.

The realization that she's not seems to press down on her shoulders even further, and she sighs, one hand reaching up to rub at her eyes. “You're right. I should go help them.”

“Hey...” there's a worried note in Layna's voice now and when Faye looks up the girl has her head tilted to the side. “You okay? You look like fresh hell.”

All of a sudden, she sees Layna's eyes, not filled with concern like they are now, but worried... distraught.

“ _But please... if you can, find out what's happening to Lord Duma. And... if you can... help him, too.”_

A sharp intake of breath and she jerks back instinctively. Layna's hand that had been reaching out to her wavers and draws back, the owner of it blinking in surprise at Faye's reaction.

“I'm – sorry.” Faye shakes her head and finds that she is averting her gaze. “I just... have a lot on my mind now.”

“ _I fear that Lord Duma's madness might have consumed him entirely by now.”_

What would Layna do if she knew? How would she respond?

Layna recovers and flashes her a quick smile. “Hey, no problem. I know you all have had it rough. And to be honest I figure I hardly look any better, what with staying up all night over the forge. In fact!” She snaps her fingers and reaches into her pocket. “That's why I wanted to find you in the first place!”

Faye doesn't say anything, but the questioning look on her face is apparently enough of a prompt for Layna to grin as she holds out a small drawstring pouch.

“Go on! Take a gander!”

Slowly, Faye pulls open the pouch and tips it over. A tiny silver ring, affixed with a green gemstone, falls into her palm. And even as it sits there, unmoving, Faye feels the magic within her stirring, reacting to the power dwelling within the ring.

“I'm not a patch on my boss,”Layna says as she rubs the back on my head. “But I'm no amateur, either. I can tell you've got a way with magic, so... I made this ring for you. It'll make your spells stronger – help you focus it across greater distances and stuff like that.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “Hope it'll be... you know. Useful.”

“...Why?” Faye finally asks as her hand closes around the ring.

“Why?”

“Well, it's just,” Faye bites her lip, takes a deep breath, “we barely know each other. We just met yesterday. Why... spend the night slaving away to do this for me?”

 _Why..._ Faye swallows hard, past the lump in her throat. _Why waste the time and effort on me?_

There's no reply for a long moment, and finally she shrugs.

“Guess it's true we don't know each other that well, but I figured – what you're doing, it's a good cause, yeah? Helping Mila and maybe Lord Duma as well...” She can see a frown come across Layna's face. “I always want to do more – but I can't. I'm not... well, I'm not a soldier.”

 _Neither was I._ Faye doesn't say that out loud.

“Anyway! You're heading into Duma's Tower, and there's bound to be danger, even if by all rights there shouldn't be.” A frustrated sigh. “The way I see it, I think doing something to try to help keep you safe is the least I could do.”

Faye doesn't reply immediately. In her clenched hand, she can still feel the arcane power of the ring, a steady pulse of magic that mingles with her own. Finally she closes her eyes and gives a single nod.

“Thanks. I'll make good use of it.” Her raging thoughts are not silenced, but the knowledge that someone had given her a gift quiets them for a moment.

“Just make sure you come back in one piece, okay?” The other girl flashes her a wide grin. “No matter what happens, as long as you're alive, you get to pick up the pieces and try again.”

Faye nods at the words, and musters a smile of her own before she bids farewell to Layna.

(X)

They make good time on their journey through northern Rigel. Evidently the chance to rest in the comfort of the Hamlet had done them all good.

Faye's walk is mechanical, focusing simply on putting one foot ahead of the next.

Sometimes she looks up and catches a glimpse of Leon, astride his warhorse. He's quiet, and Faye can't shake the feeling that he's making it a point not to look at her.

Sometimes she sees Celica at the vanguard, with Conrad at her side, and she feels her stomach twist itself in knots and pain flares in her heart. Part of her wants to go up and talk to Celica about last night, but she can't trust herself to remain composed once she brings the subject up. Part of her burns inside with sullen resentment and doesn't want to acknowledge Celica at all, and she knows this is wrong and hates herself for it.

Genny walks beside her, but after a brief attempt at conversation she'd quickly realized Faye was in no mood to talk and so she'd left her to her own devices, only shooting her the occasional worried glance. Faye supposes she is grateful, or at least the tiny part of her not boiling with anxiety, jealousy, and anger is.

Once or twice she finds her thoughts drifting towards Alm, and then she feels her breath come up short. Whenever she catches herself, she clamps down on it, willing herself to focus – on the leaf-strewn floor ahead of her, of the feel of the cold, foggy air on her face. Something, _anything_ , other than Alm right now (and wasn't it strange? Not very long ago she could happily while away entire afternoons daydreaming about him).

Flora seems to sense her distress, and moves closer to nuzzle her ear. Faye manages a brief smile as she rubs her hand along her pegasus' neck, but it fades too quickly and she is once more left with the silence of her thoughts.

It's almost a relief when Conrad's call of warning sounds, letting them know that they've made it to Duma's Gate.

The fortress is much like the others they've seen in Rigel – if anything, only more so. Built of black stone, it stands firm in their path.

There's no other route to Duma's Tower. There's no way to avoid battle.

She stares up at the bastion. Once she would have felt anxiety, uncertain of how they were going to accomplish their task to assault the place and to drive the defenders out.

Now she settles into a sort of numbed readiness. She has her tasks, and she'll fulfil them, as best she can. With a gesture from her, Flora stays behind, waiting patiently for the battle's conclusion.

They break out of the woods quickly, moving as fast as they can towards the fortress. Almost immediately she sees flashes of light coming from the gloom around her, and she catches sight of dark shapes nearing them. Even at this distance, she can feel the sparking of magic, and a few spells are flung their way.

 _Witches._ She keeps her head down, and keeps running for the gates.

A phalanx of soldiers stand guard at the entrance, and from above she hears the telltale screech of gargoyles descending. Conrad, Saber and Deen charge forward to deal with the soldiers, leaving the rest to fend off the airborne assault. Most of the Terrors are cut down by the Whitewings before they land, but one swoops lows and lunges at Celica with a bloodstained blade.

Faye wasn't around for discussion about the battle plan, but she knows the basics – Celica will need to conserve her energy for breaking into the fortress itself. If possible, she shouldn't be using her magic against any of the low level grunts.

She raises her staff, and light blazes from it. Layna's ring thrums with magic, focusing the energies of her spell and allowing it to reach farther, fly faster. The gargoyle is sent crashing onto the cold earth. It does not rise again.

Celica half-turns to shoot her a grateful smile.

Faye almost returns it.

Her attention returns to the battlefield, and she sees Conrad has scattered the men standing guard. Saber and Deen wade into the melee, preventing them from regrouping. For a moment, the gate to the fortress is undefended.

Celica charges forward, and as she does her hands begin to glow. As she reaches the door, she presses both palms against it and pauses for a moment, gathering her magic into a focal point.

“RAGNAROK!”

Fire blossoms from her hands, and the entire fortress seems to shudder as a hole is blasted straight through the ringed and barred gates. Faye has to shield her eyes from the fiery glow and she feels a wave of searing heat against her cheek, but when it fades, she can see the party preparing to move in.

“Let's move, folks!” Jesse is the first one through, sword at the ready, and she can see him fending off the defenders as he charges inside. Others follows close behind, seeking to secure the breached area and to allow all of them to make it in.

Meanwhile, Celica doubles over, hands on her knees and panting for breath. And Faye is moving towards her almost before she realizes it.

But Genny reaches her first, and Mae is also beside her, keeping an eye out for approaching foes as the cleric crouches down and tries to restore Celica's energy.

Faye spares her a glance before she takes a deep breath and enters the darkened hallways of Duma's Gate.

The place is filled with twisting corridors that lead every which way, and Faye is grateful that she's not the one in front navigating the hallways, and trying to find her route. She's vaguely aware that they're heading towards the central hall of the keep, but beyond that, she keeps her head down, and follows.

And then, Faye gasps as she feels the twisting in her gut. _Wrongness._ Something that should not be, is here.

Out of the corner of her eye, movement.

She pulls short in her walk a moment before the fireball impacts the ground in front of her. Whirling, she comes face to face with two witches, both hovering in the air, both with arms outstretched and glowing with magic.

“Kh!” Faye raises her staff as the closer of the witches makes her attack, and her counterspell intercepts a moment before the fireball would have struck home.

The second one darts closer, lightning crackling along its fingertips and Faye has no time to create a spell to counter it. Once more, instinct takes over and she dashes forward, swinging her staff like a club. The jewelled tip of the weapon slams into the side of the witch's face and it staggers with a cry of pain.

She has a clear shot. One good hit should be able to finish the witch immediately.

So... why is she hesitating now?

“ _There aren't many young women in the Sage's Hamlet. Or, well... most of Western Rigel, really. Most of them...”_

An image of Layna flashes in her mind.

“ _Well, you've seen the Witches, I guess.”_

Suddenly she realizes a gloved hand is reaching up at her, and a fireball is blossoming right in her face.

“Ah-”

“Get back!” A crackling noise from behind her, and a fireball, expertly aimed, impacts with the witch's hand just before she can release her own. The creature – the girl – staggers back, and Faye sees Sonya jumping forward, a thin blade clutched in her hand.

Sonya cuts down the first witch, and Faye sees the second one had taken advantage of the distraction, and is lunging at her, hands crackling with lightning.

_Thunk._

The sound of an arrow piercing flesh. The second Witch crumples to the ground and does not move.

Faye turns and sees Leon holding his bow. He looks at her for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turns and heads on, already drawing another arrow from his quiver.

_Leon..._

“Are you hurt?” Sonya's voice comes from behind, and she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“I'm fine.” Her voice sounds weak and wavering as she shakes her head.

Silence, just longer than absolutely natural.

Then, “You hesitated.” There's no judgement in Sonya's voice. There's no easy answer to give, so Faye doesn't reply. She tightens the grip on her staff.

Sonya seems to understand, and gently she guides Faye away from the site of the clash.

Behind them, the bodies of the slain witches dissolve into nothing.

(X)

When Faye pushes open the door to the room assigned to her, she sees that Genny is already there, head bowed over her notebook and scribbling furiously away.

The sight is able to quirk her lips for a moment, but her shoulders feel like they're weighed down with lead and she walks – practically staggers into the room.

“Oh, Faye!” Genny smiles at her. “You were assigned this room too?”

“Yeah...” Faye shrugs. “I guess they know we're comfortable with each other by now.”

_After all, your friendship is one of those I haven't wrecked yet._

Genny hums a note of acknowledgement before she returns to her writing. Meanwhile, Faye settles herself down on the empty cot, and stares at the wall, her thoughts still in turmoil.

What is she supposed to do? What is she supposed to _feel?_

The raw pain and grief that had come from the knowledge that Alm didn't love her had subsided by now, leaving a sort of numb ache in its place. If anything, that's the easiest part of the mess of emotions to deal with. The pain will fade with time. It must.

But Celica... Celica. Faye doesn't know what to think. A part of her still squirms and writhes with resentment, a serpentine whisper that hisses the mantra of ' _it's not fair, it's not fair'_ into her head. And yet she wants to strangle that thought, bury it and never look upon it again.

“ _If I fell in love with him, I could hardly blame you for doing the same.”_

It was so easy for her to say that, wasn't it? With how much more beautiful and refined she was, of course she would have felt that it would be more likely that Alm would choose her instead of Faye! A fine thing too, being magnanimous and caring when she was the one who could afford to look down on-

 _Stop it. STOP IT._ She tries again to arrest her thoughts. Celica isn't like this. She doesn't look at Faye that way. She doesn't. She _can't._

“Faye?” Genny's voice is soft as she leans over to take a closer look at Faye. “Are you... is everything okay?”

No, it's not, but there's no easy way to give an answer that will satisfy her and so Faye reaches up and rubs at her forehead.

“I... just need to clear my thoughts a little,” she looks around and sees Genny's book, lying open an unattended on the table. “Sorry, am I disturbing your writing?”

“What? No, of course not. I was... well, I was just a little worried about you.”

Genny doesn't know anything about the situation with Alm and Celica, and for that Faye is grateful. She doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to explain it. She doesn't want her emotions to get the better of her, and so she shakes her head and manages a tired smile.

“I'll be fine. And thanks for your concern. But enough about me. So how's your writing going?”

“Oh? Er, it's going pretty well, actually. I'm just planning out the climax!” Genny's demeanour changes dramatically as she talks about her interests. Now both hands are clutched close to her chest, and she's beaming with delight.

“The climax? Isn't that a little early right now?” She knows from hearing various snippets about the work that she's nowhere near done with writing the story.

“Not really. After all, nobody says I need to write the whole thing in order!” She walks back to the desk and she picks up her book, flipping through the last couple of pages. “After all, I need to properly plan the reunion!”

“The reunion?” She digs through her mind, trying to recall scraps of what Genny had told her about before. “You mean between the princess and her father?”

“No, no, that part happens earlier.” Genny shakes her head, and one finger runs down the side of the book. “I'm talking about the part where she finally gets rescued from danger by her true love!”

It takes all of Faye's self control to keep her expression neutral, and she is forced to bite her tongue. Genny doesn't seem to notice – it appears Faye's attempts to distract her with talking about her book had succeeded, after all.

“Her true love?” It's all she trusts herself to say.

“Uh huh! The prince she met earlier in the story!” Her eyes shine and her voice takes on a more dramatic tone as she wield the book like a trophy in the air. “Though both conceal their identities at first, a chance meeting in a quiet village sparks the first hint of passion between them! Though torn apart by the cruelties of fate, they still strive to find each other again, with distance only making the heart grow fonder!” She trails off into a quiet chuckle. “I mean, I know it's not the most original plotline, but the classics are classics for a reason, don't you think?”

Faye almost responds but she swallows it and nods along. Genny is innocent, and doesn't deserve her scorn.

 _And does Celica? Does Leon?_ Again, her own thoughts seem to mock her and all she can do is sit there and feel powerless.

“Faye?”

“Genny, do you have anyone you like?” The question is out of her mouth before she can really think about it, and she mentally kicks herself again. Why can't she let this go? Why does she keep worrying at it, like a dog with a bone?

Even though it hurts her to think about it...

Even though it makes her stomach churn...

“Me?” Genny purses her lips for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Well, no one in particular. But... I always wanted to have someone a bit older as a partner.”

“Older?”

“Uh-huh! I just... hm, I think it'd feel nice, like you're really being taken care of!” She frowns a little. “Mae tells me that it's because I'm still young. That when I grow up a little I won't feel the same way and that I won't want to feel like I'm being coddled.”

“Well, what does she know?” Faye shakes her head. “You like what you like. You shouldn't let other people tell you what's the correct way or – or the correct person to like in the first place.” She's experienced it before; people trying to dissuade her from so doggedly pursuing Alm. She didn't think much of them then. She still doesn't now.

_Not that it matters much anymore._

“Yeah, I guess that's true.” Genny lets out a sigh. “Thanks for that, Faye. And... I hope that you're able to work out whatever relationship troubles you're having now, too.”

“Wha-!” Faye sits up straighter, blinks once, twice, and feels her neck heating up. “What do you – I mean, you could tell?”

“Well, I'm not that unobservant, you know?” She lays the book down on the table and her hand reaches up to touch Faye's shoulder gently. Faye stiffens for a brief moment before relaxing. “And... well, I can tell you don't really want to talk about it. At least with me. But... I think if there's someone you can trust about this, you should. Talking things out... clearing the air... that's usually helps.”

Deep down inside, Faye is scared. She doesn't want to blow up again, doesn't want to push someone away like she did with Leon. But she can hear the truth in Genny's words, and the echo of Uncle Mycen's own as well.

She takes a deep breath.

And she nods.

(X)

_Ten days go by with Faye not speaking to Gray after their argument. It's probably the first major one they've ever had, and Faye isn't sure how she's supposed to properly deal with it._

_She supposes leaving it alone isn't an option. Trying to hang out with the rest of her friends without including Gray is awkward and not really possible, especially when Alm tries his best to word his questions and statement so that she and Gray have to interact. He doesn't know the reasons behind his friends' argument, and Faye isn't keen on volunteering that information any time soon._

_But she knows things can't go on like this. It's... knowing one of her friends is deliberately avoiding her is a miserable feeling, and she can only wonder if Gray feels the same._

_She knows she should talk with him. At the very least, it'll help to clarify where things stand._

_But it still catches Faye by surprise when it actually happens._

_She's just returning from Alm's house after delivering a parcel to Uncle Mycen, when she catches sight of Gray in front of his own, dutifully chopping firewood for his family._

_For a moment she's unsure if she should walk away, but then Gray lifts his head and catches her eye._

_Well, nothing for it, then. Slowly, she walks over. Gray doesn't respond immediately._

_After a moment, the log on the stand splits cleanly in two, and he lean the axe down and wipes the sweat from his face before he turns to face her._

“ _... Hey.” His voice is quiet._

“ _Hey yourself.” Something about that line feels like it should included with a smile, but Faye doesn't see herself as capable of that. Not right now._

_Another awkward silence. Gray scratches at his neck before he lets out a sigh._

“ _So, I don't know about you, but having one of my friends mad at me is a pretty lousy feeling.”_

“ _Yeah,” Faye nods her head. “I know what you mean. But...”_

“ _But?”_

_She doesn't look directly at him as she speaks. It's easier that way, gathering her thoughts without looking at the expression on his face._

“ _I don't know,” she admits after a moment. “Doesn't it seem weird to you? That we were fighting and now... do we just make up? Ignore it and move on? Isn't that a little light for what we've been doing?”_

“ _Guess you could say that,” Gray's expression is thoughtful. “But if you wanna look at it the other way, if this is something that's so easy to make up about, maybe it was never that big a deal in the first place.”_

_The explanation fits, and it's a comforting thought. Maybe that's why she jumps to accept it._

“ _Sure,” she says with a nod. “Sure, I could go with that.”_

“ _Right. So... sorry,” Gray gamely offers a smile, “I shouldn't have pressed you about Alm like that.”_

“ _I'm sorry too,” she offers her own smile in return, “I shouldn't have snapped at you. And... maybe you were right.”_

“ _Right?”_

_She manages a bashful chuckle as she scratches at her chin. “Well, I was thinking about it, and... I really do bring Alm up a lot. I mean, if it bothers you... well, then I guess I could make an effort not to do it. As much, I mean.”_

_There's a laugh from Gray, and suddenly all the tension is gone, just like that. “Well, nobody ever said broadening one's horizon's was a bad thing.”_

_She laughs too, and that night she invites him over for dinner and they while away the hours swapping stories about their friends and their misadventures._

_From that day on, she does her best to watch her tongue in front of her friends, and not to bring Alm up quite so much – at least, when he's not part of the discussion. For his part, Gray will sometimes subtly – and not so subtly – steer the conversation down a different path if Faye rambles on too much about one thing, as she is wont to do._

_It works, and as Faye sticks with them, talking about the harvests, and training, and the day to day life in Ram Village, she knows._

_She doesn't want this to ever change._

(X)

When Faye sets out from her room, she doesn't have a real destination in mind. Notwithstanding her acknowledgement that she should talk with the others, she's still not sure who exactly to seek out, or what she would even say when she found them.

It had always been easier, she realizes. Easier to be quiet, clutch hands to her chest, and to not say anything. Keep her thoughts to herself, and speak nothing of it.

But that wouldn't solve anything in the long run. She'd seen that for herself, the day she watched Alm's back as he vanished through the village gates, and now that she knows...

A fresh pang strikes her heart, and she shakes her head as she draws to a stop.

_Would it have changed anything? If I'd been more open with Alm... if I'd poured my heart out to him, before the day that Deliverance knight arrived... would I have been able to keep him with me?_

_Would I not have lost Alm after all?_

She's so wrapped up in her thoughts that it takes her a while to realize she's wandered almost to the battlements of the fortress. For once the sky is relatively clear, and she can see the sun, setting in the horizon. Cast in fiery red, she can see a dark shape, tiny and indistinct in the distance.

Duma's Tower.

Celica is standing so still that it takes Faye a moment too realize she's even there, but she is, back to her, staring out at the same tower. The only sign of movement are her hands – her left one is once more massaging the palm of her right.

“Celica...” Her voice is soft, but apparently Celica hears it as she whirls around to face her.

“Oh, Faye! You're here too?” She's walking over, all smiles, all warmth and kindness, and Faye feels her stomach twisting again. “I didn't get a chance to thank you. Leon's already passed me the sword. He said you wanted to give it to me, but left it in his room by accident.”

_Why?_

“If there's nothing urgent, you should go get some rest,” she sighs, and reaches up to rub at the side of her face. “We're probably going to increase our marching pace after this, so we'll all need to make sure we're at our best for what comes next.”

“Yeah, I know... Thanks.” She can't bring herself to meet Celica's gaze.

“Faye...? Is something wrong?” She can hear the concern in Celica's voice as she steps closer. One hand comes up, fingers brushing hesitantly against the sleeve of her shirt before Celica lets it fall to the side.

Faye closes her eyes. Celica is so kind, so thoughtful.

 _A better person than me._ Her, riven with jealousy and self-doubt.

And so... so, she can do this much. She can. She _can_.

She opens her mouth, but the words seem to stick in her throat. She grits her teeth, swallows, and tries again.

“Celica, I just... wanted to let you know.” Something writhes in her, something black and angry that howls about the monstrous _unfairness_ of it all, but she pushes forward as fast she can. If she can just say the words, then maybe it will seem more real. “I... I won't get in your way.”

“Get in my way?” A confused pause. “I... what do you mean?”

Of course. Celica wasn't like Faye. She had responsibilities, duties as a princess and as leader of their group. She wasn't going to spend every waking moment pondering her relationship with Alm.

“I mean... I mean,” the words feel like gravel in her throat. “You and Alm. I won't be selfish. I won't ruin it for you, and for him.”

“Me and Alm?” One hand goes to her chest, and Faye finds herself biting her lip as Celica frowns. “I...”

And only now does Faye remember that Celica doesn't know she was outside the sage's house when they were talking, and she sighs. She's such a mess today.

“Back in the Hamlet,” she says as she takes a deep breath. “I... heard you and Alm talking. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, well, I couldn't help it.” A distant part of her wonders at spilling all this, but she shuts it down.

They _had_ promised no more secrets from each other, had they not?

“You heard that? Oh, Faye...” Celica starts, before shaking her head. “But... I was really happy to see Alm again, that's true. But Alm didn't say he loved _me_ or anything of that sort. So you don't need to-”

“What?” Faye shakes her head. “He didn't _need_ to say it, Celica! You mean you couldn't tell? The way he spoke to you! The way he sounded! The way he...” she breaks off, and one hand reaches up to brush limp strands of hair out of her eyes. “You never directly told me you liked Alm either, you know. But I could still tell. I think anyone could. Just from the way you talk about him.”

And now Celica is the one silent, her mind silently replaying the conversation, trying to recall the way Alm had spoken, had behaved to her.

And Faye feels that same anger within her again. Alm loved Celica, and she didn't _realize_ it? She could speak to him directly and look into his eyes, and she could miss out on that?

If that was the case, maybe she didn't... she didn't _deserve-_

“Faye...” the mention of her name brings her back to the present, and Celica is looking at her again, with eyes that hold... worry? Pity?

It takes all of Faye's effort not to step away.

“So, yes.” She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Like I said... I know Alm... he's chosen you... over me.”

No.

No, that wasn't right, was it?

Alm hadn't chosen Celica over Faye, because he had never seen Faye as an option at all.

Another deep breath, and she feels the sting of tears that prickle at the back of her eyes.

“So... I won't... I... won't...”

She'd thought she'd exhausted her tears about this, back in the Sage's Hamlet. That all that was left was the feeling of aching emptiness in her chest. But apparently the pain in her heart was still capable of flaring up and burning her. One shaky hands reaches up to her face, to wipe the tears that blur her vision.

And then, warms hands, reaching around her, and she's pressed close to Celica, and her tears are now spilling down onto Celica's shoulder.

“... I'm sorry, Faye.”

“Why?” She speaks through her pain, and while one arm instinctively reaches up to clutch at Celica as well, the other scrubs angrily at her eyes. “You don't...” she has to say it. Even if she doesn't believe it, “you don't have anything to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I'm sorry anyway,” Celica's embrace tightens, her voice soft in Faye's ear. “I didn't want my happiness to come at your expense.”

Celica. So understanding. So perfect.

“Why?” Faye shakes her head, unable to make her voice more than a trembling whisper. “Why? Why not me? Why you?”

_You don't know Alm. You haven't seen him for seven years. I know him. I've been at his side all this while. I'd do anything for him, if only he asked._

_It's not fair. It's not fair. **It's not fair.**_

The voice in her head pounds, growing louder the more she tries to ignore it.

She can feel Celica shaking her head, and then a soft admission. “I... I don't know.”

And something about the way she says it, the uncertainty in Celica's own voice, causes the tightness in Faye's chest to ease, ever so slightly.

She lowers her head, and cries into the shoulder of Celica, the person she'd lost to.

She feels that if she weren't being held, she'd fall to the floor like a broken doll, all the strength gone from her body.

But Celica does hold on to her.

And so, she remains standing, holding on to Celica as well.

(X)

It is three days of hard marching later that they reach the Swamps of Duma, the last obstacle between them and the tower.

Faye spends most of the journey in silence. Her thoughts on Alm's relationship with Celica has reached an uneasy middle ground. She doesn't _hate_ Celica or anything (she can't, she never will) but she can't just sit and talk with her, the way they used to. At least not now.

Time. She just needs some time. After all this nonsense, after the mess with Duma is over.

Thoughts of Duma once more leads her to remember the conversation she had overheard, and once more she feels anxiety trickle down her spine.

_Is Mila..._

Part of her wants to talk to Celica about it, to ask her if it's true that the gods might be going mad, and if there's anything they can do. But she remembers Nomah's words, remembers the quiet devotion Celica has for Mila, and she finds herself hesitating whenever there's a chance to bring it up.

Leon still hasn't spoken to her since that night. Faye supposes she can't blame him. She wants to apologize, but... what is there to say?

She pats Flora on the haunch, and continues walking.

“Are you all right?”

She looks up to see Sonya walking at her side, arms folded and a tolerant smile on her face.

“People seem to keep asking me that lately,” she says by way of reply.

“Well, maybe you've given them reason to ask.” Sonya shrugs. “After all, you've been a lot more broody ever since you left the Sage's Hamlet.”

“I guess...” Maybe she can share a crumb of the truth. Sonya knows about the Duma Faithful, so maybe she'd be able to offer some insight. “I got to chatting with someone from the Hamlet and I learnt that the people there think something's gone wrong with Duma.”

“Well, not a hard conclusion to draw, really.”

“Hah,” Faye allows herself a bitter chuckle as she looks about the desolate landscape, “I know. But I also learnt... the witches... they used to be women. Normal women, from all over Rigel.”

There's no reply for a long moment.

“I know you said before, something about how the witches were products of Duma, but I never really understood it. But now... he's turning normal people – normal women, into them?”

Finally, Sonya lowers her head and sighs.

“That's right. A woman becomes a witch when Duma consumes their soul. In exchange for power, so the saying goals – for all the good it does them now.”

Faye feels her spine turn to ice.

“So... all those witches...”

“Yes. They were all once ordinary women. Living their lives. Well, I don't doubt a few of them really did give him their souls willingly, but for most...” Sonya's expression is hard, and her fists are clenched. “They were sacrificed just to appease Duma's thirst for power. Everything's changed... from what I knew, growing up.”

_The desires of a mad god..._

Then she frowns. “But... er, Sonya?”

“Hm? What is it, little one?”

“I don't mean to be rude, but... didn't you have command of a few witches, back in the desert?”

She heaves a sigh. “Yes, I did. I managed to wrest control of them from an Arcanist, a few years back. After that... well, it wasn't like I could leave them on their own. So I supposed I became their owner, if you want to think of it that way.”

Faye looks at the ground, at the muddy earth that squelches under her boots. “If what you say is true about their souls being taken, then maybe death would be merciful for them.”

“You know, maybe you're right.” Sonya laughs, a harsh sound. “But I wanted... no, if there's still some way to save them, then I want to find it.”

Faye blinks and looks up at Sonya. Her expression is distant and thoughtful, as she looks up at the sky. “That's my goal,” she says with a nod. “To find a way to cure the witches... to be able to restore these people to their former selves.”

That's a noble goal, Faye has to admit. Certainly loftier than anything she herself could aspire to. But still...

“Didn't you say their souls were already eaten? That... doesn't sound like something you can cure, to be honest.”

“Well, nobody said it would be an easy task.” Sonya folds her arms and heaves a sigh. “This is something that's important to me, though. I can't give up so easily.”

They continue to walk in silence. The mud is starting to become more difficult to traverse, and Faye grunts as they continue to wade through.

“Sonya?” Faye pauses for a moment, weighing her words. “What if... if it turns you out can't actually cure the witches... If you end up not being able to fulfil your dreams... what then?”

“What then, huh?” Something about the way Sonya looks at her makes it clear she knows that Faye isn't really talking about her. But she nods, “Well, in that case I suppose I'd – look out!”

Alerted by the cry, Faye dodges to the side at the last second as some skyborne object plunges into the ground in front of her. Her first thought is that it's a gargoyle, but the movement and speed is all wrong. And as it rises up again, Faye sees it's more like a floating ball with multiple eyes all along the body.

“Mogalls!” Sonya is raising her hands, and magic gathers in them. “Ambush! Be careful!”

And then dark shapes are rising up all around them, and what had been a quiet march is replaced with the thunder and fury of battle.

Faye casts a quick look over the battlefield to see where aid is needed – and she lets out a gasp of surprise. What appears to be a massive armoured knight lumbers up to her, a spear clutched in its giant hands. It moves with a speed that belies its strength, and it's charging straight for her.

“Seraphim!”

Her bolt of holy magic strikes the fiend dead on, and the monster knight staggers – but only a moment before it rallies and continues charging her again.

Just before it reaches her Deen tackles it, and his blade rends the chestplate in two. Still it stands, and its only when Faye fires off a second spell that the creature finally topples.

“Greater Terrors,” Sonya's expression is set. “This is no ordinary cantor. Whoever's in charge here is one of their elite.”

Faye steps back, and turns her attention towards healing the wounded of their party. The armoured fiends are rallying points, massive creatures that must be dealt with through an overabundance of destructive power – but focusing on them gives the floating eyeballs – the Mogalls – chances to dart in and harry the attackers.

Faye twists to dodge a lunging eyeball, and she catches a glimpse of white, shooting straight up into the grey around them.

 _Flora!_ The suddenness of battle must have shocked her, and she's instinctively taken to the skies. For a moment, Faye hesitates, torn between chasing after her pegasus and aiding her friends on the ground. Mogalls see the panicked pegasus as an obvious target, and three of them fly up as well, chasing after her.

Then she sees Catria swooping in, spear levelled and movements sure, stabbing through one of the Terrors and blocking the rest from reaching Flora. Faye can only breathe a silent prayer of thanks to her friend, before she returns her attention to those around her.

The battle rages on, and Faye catches sight of Celica, flanked by Boey and Genny, working together to bring down another one of the fiends. With a nod, she starts to head towards them.

She's taken two steps before a Mogall plummets from the air, slamming into Boey and sending him sprawling. She sees, rather than hears, Genny's shout of alarm, and then she's scrabbling to heal him and get him back to his feet.

Meanwhile, Faye's attention is caught by the looming shape that has appeared from the darkness – a man, dressed in robes of purple, red, and gold. His arms are spread out in a gesture of welcome, and as Faye scrambles to Celica's side – to provide support and ensure she won't face him alone – the man begin to speak.

“So you've come, Anthiese. Heh heh heh. I am so pleased!”

“Jedah!” Celica's blade is drawn, but she doesn't lift it as she faces the man. “I am here, as promised. I would see Mila with my own eyes! Call your Terrors off!”

“I am afraid I cannot comply.” The man shakes his head once in a gesture of mock sorrow. “My invitation was for you alone. Your companions, meanwhile, are trespassers upon the holiest site in all of Rigel. And my loyal guardians are beholden to slay any who violate Lord Duma's sanctuary.”

“What? That wasn't part of our bargain!”

“Whether you come alone or with a gaggle of hangers-on is irrelevant to me. If you wish your companions spared, then pray they can surpass this trial.” His grin widens and he extends an open palm. “Of course, there is always the alternative-”

“Back OFF!” Faye snaps as she raises her staff. The familiar energies gather in her – and freeze in place. Instead of surging out in a destructive spell that would draw out the man's life, the magic she had gathered disperses into nothing as she feels her muscles seize.

_What-_

The man's smile has vanished, and he turns to look at Faye. “Little worm... know your place!” The outstretched hand turns into a clenched fist, and Faye feels magic gathering.

“No! Stop!” At her side, Celica raises a hand as well, but then she shudders and steps back, a pained expression on her face. “What – my magic-?”

“I've no need for any of you, save the princess.” The man continues, and as he opens his palm, a tiny black ball of darkness floats up from it. “Now, begone-!”

Almost too fast for the eye to follows, the bolt of darkness is hurled at Faye. She dodges at the last moment – almost. But pain sears her arm, she almost loses her grip on her staff as she cries out.

“Faye!” A call from behind her – Genny's voice. And soothing light is bathing her wound.

“Genny, get back!” Faye manages as she stumbles through the waterlogged terrain. “That man – our magic doesn't work-”

“ **JEDAH!** ” The howl of rage is bestial, and it takes her a long moment to realize that it's Sonya who made that scream. She sees her charges forward, blade drawn – but the man – Jedah – simply stands still, and still the strike fails to draw any blood.

“Sonya... you're here?” Jedah's eyes widen for a moment before they harden into a predatory glare. “You always were the most troublesome of your sisters. You could have joined them in service to our lord, but instead here you are, making scraps as a mercenary.”

“You stole my sister's lives and fed their souls to Duma!” And Faye's eyes widen as she realized the personal nature of Sonya's relation to the witches. “I swear I'll avenge them, here and now!”

“And how will you do that? Useless girl.” Jedah sneers and he waves a finger. Another bolt of darkness lances forth, and Sonya staggers back, clutching at her midsection. “What will you accomplish with your meagre training and abilities?”

This time, Jedah spreads his hands, and Faye can feel the new surge of energy – it's massive, far stronger than his earlier cantrips, on par with the amount Celica uses for her strongest spells.

“Sonya!” She sees Genny break away and rush up to her, staff raised. Sonya coughs and Faye can see blood trickling down her chin as she lifts an arm to ward her off.

“No-! Genny, get back!”

“Oh, you care for this girl, do you?” Malice shines in Jedah's eyes. “Then I grant you the joy of watching her perish!”

The spell is flung – and it morphs into the demonic skull Faye remembers. Genny is midstride, caught by surprise. There's no way for her to dodge. The skeletal jaw creaks open-

“No!” Suddenly, Genny is facedown in the mud, away from the spell, and the waves of darkness are instead covering -

“SONYA!” Faye's scream sounds alien to her own ears.

She staggers back under the onslaught, one step, two. Then, both hands raise, and they glow with silver light.

“Excalibur!”

The blades of slicing wind are called forth, and somehow, this time the spell succeeds. They slam into Jedah, and the man is sent staggering. Blood spatters on the ground where he stands.

“Gah!” A pause. “Keh heh heh. Such delightful struggling. Very well. In honour of your desperate clawing for life, I will withdraw for now.” Jedah slowly wipes the blood from his mouth before he shifts his attention to Celica, still staring at him silently. “Anthiese! I shall await you at the pinnacle! There, you may see the truth for yourself – and there you may decide.”

A clap of thunder, and where Jedah stood, there is nothing. Abruptly, the forest around them grows silent.

Faye stands, staring at the empty space on the ground for a long moment. And then, suddenly, she remembers Sonya, and she turns-

Sonya is lying on the muddy ground. Genny is staggering to her feet, trying to get to her, and Faye moves over as well, preparing to heal her.

But as she nears, Sonya smiles up at her. The smile is gentle.

Tired.

Faye feels her heart lurch.

“Don't... bother.”

“What?” Faye's brain seems to have frozen, which is why she can't articulate the fear, the creeping unease of something she _knows-_

Something that can't happen.

“Didn't I... tell you before?” A chuckle, and this one brings with it a spurt of dark blood. “Aren't very many... who can take a Death spell... and... live to tell... of it.”

“No... no!” Genny has reached her side, and heedless of Sonya's own words, she raises her staff, and light shines down.

But when it fades, Sonya is still pale – too pale, and still lying on the ground, her breathing still slow.

“No...” Genny is all but mouthing the words now, as she kneels down by Sonya's side. “This isn't – It's not... If I... if I knew stronger spells I could-”

“Hey... don't cry.” Sonya's lips curl upwards and she exhales, a long wheezing breath. “I said so... didn't I? It'd be a waste... to let... anything... spoil... your pretty faces...”

And Faye finds that she doesn't know what to say. What to do. All she can do is also crouch by Sonya's side, hold her hand.

But... no. No, it can't end like this!

“Sonya! Sonya, don't die! You can't die! You still had a goal, didn't you? You wanted to learn how to save the witches! You wanted – you wanted to restore your sisters! If you die now, you'll-!” She's cut off by the tightness in her throat, and she rubs angrily at her eyes as the tears blur her vision.

“Ah... that's right...” Sonya closes her eyes, and for a horrible moment Faye fears she will slip away right then and there. “Marla... Hestia... I'm sorry. I couldn't... save you after all...”

“Ahh... aahhhhh...” Faye can't say anything. She can't do anything but make strangled sounds as she sits and clutches at Sonya's hand.

“But... it's okay...” she feels Sonya's fingers tighten against her own, slightly. Ever so slightly. “Faye... you wanted to know... if I never reach... my goal... what then?”

She can't respond.

“But it's fine... it wasn't... what I intended... but I could still... protect... the both... of... you...”

Sonya's speech slows. Faye's heart is in her throat.

“No! Sonya! Sonya, hang on!”

“That's... why. It's... fine.”

Sonya breathes out, a long shallow breath, one last time.

And she smiles.

(X)

“What the _hell_ was that?” Faye can't remember the last time she swore. But then, she can't remember the last time she was this upset. Not when she realized Alm had left her behind. Not when she had learned that Alm loved someone else.

She stands in front of Celica, who is quiet, her face pale. Behind them, Genny continues to mourn over Sonya's corpse. A part of Faye wants to join her, let loose her grief. But a larger part wants answers. A target for her anger.

Celica looks to side, obviously fighting to keep herself calm. “I – I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't think it would turn out like this.”

“You knew that person? He was obviously expecting you! And what's this about a bargain?” The words come out from her mouth in a torrent, one question barely asked before she moves on to the next one. She can't stop them, she can't think hard about what she's demanding or saying.

Celica opens her mouth to answer, but then the words seem to get stuck in her throat and she squeezes her eyes shut. “I'm... sorry, Faye. I need... I need you to trust me. At least on this.”

“Trust you? _Trust_ you?” Faye gesticulates wildly for a moment, before pointing vaguely south. “Celica, I've followed you all the way from Ram Village! I've literally crossed the continent for you! Do you think that would have happened if I _didn't_ trust you? Why can't you trust _me_?”

“I do!” The answer is given with a vehemence that startles Faye. Well, that's only fair, she thinks sourly. It seems Celica is as upset with insinuations of a lack of trust as much as she is. “I trust you all with my very life! But this is... different.” She takes a deep breath. “I need to... I need to see Mila. With my own eyes. It's only then I can make a decision.”

The words stick in Faye's mind. Her breathing quickens, and she finds her fists are clenched.

“ _As long as no one does anything rash, seeing the truth of the matter with our own eyes is probably for the best.”_

The words from the frigid night float up to her.

“ _Celica places so much faith in the Mother... I don't want her to worry any more than she needs to.”_

“Celica, is this... is this about Mila... and her...” She pauses, her mouth working for a moment. “Her... state of mind?”

Celica's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. That's all the confirmation Faye needs.

“So you knew too.” _Another secret. Although I'm hardly one to talk in this case._ “How? I overheard Sage Halcyon and Father Nomah discussing it. But they were certain you didn't suspect anything.” She pauses, sifting through the possibilities. “Was it that man who told you? Jedah? Was this part of your bargain?”

“I... nothing is confirmed yet.” Celica repeats, her voice emphatic. “I need to see Mila first. I promise you, Faye. I _swear_ to you, I'll tell you everything after that.”

Perhaps in better circumstances, Faye might have left it that, and ignored the unease in her heart. But these aren't better circumstances, and Faye can still hear the faint sounds of Genny's weeping, and so her glare and her heart hardens. “Why can't you tell me _now_? We both know Mila might be going mad. If that's not the worst part, what is?'

Celica shakes her head, looks away. “It's – you wouldn't understand-”

It's exactly the wrong thing to say at that precise moment, and likely Celica realizes it as soon as the words leave her mouth. But it's too late, and Faye feels her jaw tighten.

“Yes... I wouldn't understand. I guess you're right. After all, what would silly little village girl Faye know of the affairs of gods and royals? Better for her to just be quiet and follow orders. Isn't that correct, your _highness?_ ” She whirls, about to storm off, to where she does not know.

“No, wait!” Celica reaches out a hand, touching her shoulder. “I didn't mean-”

“ _NO_!” She surprises herself with the strength of her yell as she jerks, slapping Celica's hand away. “No, you do _not_ get to take those words back!”

She sees a room. Herself, wrapped in warm blankets, mouth wide with shock. Leon, jaw tight and lips pale with outrage.

_After all, I didn't get to take my own words back either._

“You were the one who brought us out here!” Her voice is raw in her throat. “You were the one who made a bargain with that man over... over something! And he ambushed us and tried to kill all of us, and you still refuse to tell us what this is about?” Faye pauses to take a deep, ragged breath.

Celica looks at her with lost, haunted eyes, and Faye opens her mouth, one more time.

“He _killed_ Sonya! Sonya is dead!”

 _Because of you._ Those three words are on the verge of leaving her tongue when she clamps down, and swallows them, feeling them burn like coals in her throat. Even now, even in the throes of her sorrow and outrage, she knows that uttering those words will lead them across a threshold they can never come back from.

And so instead the two of them continue to stare at each other, taking deep gulps of the cold evening air.

From above comes the beating of wings, and Faye sees Catria helping to guide Flora down for a landing. The pegasus knight looks over both of them, but says nothing as she releases Flora and returns to the skies, probably to scout for any other potential attackers.

Faye automatically moves to rub Flora's flank, calming her down, and on an impulse cllimbs atop her. The movements are smooth and automatic now, and suddenly she finds herself wanting to take to the sky, and to fly away from all this.

Back south. Back home.

Back to Ram, where war is a distant rumour, and witches are unheard of, and death happens in bed surrounded by loved ones, not in a forsaken hellhole of mud and fog.

But she doesn't.

There's enough, just enough of her that refuses to abandon Celica, and Genny, and Catria, and Leon, and everyone else.

And it just makes her feel even worse.

“You know, for the longest time, I kept my feelings for Alm a secret. I was worried about how you'd react, about what bringing that into the open would mean for our friendship.” She says this, and then turns to look at Celica. “But if _this_ is what our friendship is worth, then _why did I even bother?_ ”

Without waiting for a response, she snaps the reins, and Flora leaps into the air. Faye looks over the landscape, at the rest of the party beneath her. She can see Saber and Jesse, crouching over Sonya's body and wrapping it in a shroud, and she feels an odd sense of guilt that she should go down and help.

Instead she wheels in the air, and looks up, at their destination.

Duma's Tower looms ahead.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So. This chapter.

Biggest thing for me for a large chunk of this chapter was trying to strike the balance. I wanted to show Faye somewhat self-destructing here, and also to hint that those problems didn't just spring up out of nowhere – stress and circumstances are making it worse, definitely, and she's just not coping very well at all – particularly when most of the people she looks up to for strength and guidance aren't available for... reasons. At the same time part of her reactions are rooted in her flaws that she's carried all the way from her days in Ram.

And of course, at the same time the goal is still to present her as sympathetic, so I didn't want to go too far in the other direction too. Well, the results will speak for themselves so I hope you found it compelling.

Another issue in terms of 'striking the balance' was having Faye's personal conflict about Alm be measured against the bigger problem of Duma potentially going insane. She's depressed and worried about both things, albeit not really in equal measure. And so I wanted to write it so she's juggling both these issues and... well, not really succeeding at dealing with either one.

Also pacing. This was partly the chapter where stuff is all supposed to come to a head, and I can only hope that it didn't feel too rushed or cluttered to the readers. Basically the big emotional chapters are the ones that a big bugbear to write because you can't stop worrying that if you do something wrong the whole thing ends up going over like a lead balloon.

Also, Sonya. I don't have that much to say here, except that I've been planning and working on this for a long time. I hope I did her justice.

As always, thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it, and comments and criticisms are very much welcome!


	11. When Celica Tried to Leave Her Behind

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The first time Celica left Faye behind, she didn't understand what was going on at all.

Perhaps it was because she was too young. Uncle Mycen was the one who had made the decision, and she knew that grown-ups liked to make decisions she didn't always understand. Celica was downcast, and why there was the hint of dried tear stains on her cheeks, but there was a deeper sadness lurking in her, and the source of that was unknown to Faye.

Or maybe it was because she didn't know enough. The world outside Ram – where Celica had come from – was a vast confusing place. Celica had her secrets, things from her past she didn't want to talk about. And though Celica would say nothing to confirm or deny it, Faye knew that whatever was troubling her had to have come from the outside. The knights that had attacked them was proof enough of that.

But whatever the reason, she knew only one thing: That Celica was going away, and that she was unlikely to ever come back.

When it was time to say farewell, they gathered at the village gates. Her friends shuffled their feet, fidgeted and glanced at each other and at the ground. None of them were used to the idea of saying goodbye for good.

“I'll miss all of you,” Celica said to them. She looked resigned. Tired. “Take care of yourselves, okay?”

That moment felt like it deserved something more, some grand statement about how they would always be friends and how one day they'd see each other again, but Faye was still reeling from her encounter with the knights, and her mind was blank. She didn't know what to do, or what to say.

Celica solved that issue by embracing her, throwing her arms around her neck. And Faye found herself automatically returning the gesture, even as her mind remained blank and her mouth stayed dry.

“Goodbye.”

Celica's final word to her was spoken in hurried whisper – Uncle Mycen was urging speed and they had no time for anything else. Faye stood there, watching silently as Celica was settled onto the horse and carried away.

Long after they had vanished from view, Faye continued to stare at the empty gates, a hard knot in her belly and an aching emptiness in her chest.

And though it was a silly, foolish thought Faye still couldn't help but wonder-

_Is there anything I could have done?_

_If I hadn't been so scared of the knights..._

_If I'd been able to stand up for myself..._

_If things had been different..._

_Would Celica have been able to stay after all?_

No answer was given in the silence of Celica's departure, and after that there was nothing for Faye to do but to turn and walk away.

(X)

The entrance to Duma's Tower is unguarded. That's just as well; Faye really doesn't want to get into another battle right then.

A grim silence settles on the party as they step into the cavernous hallway of the place. More than the pain of loss, there's the unspoken understanding that they are well and truly in the heart of the Duma Faithful's realm, and in the seat of their power.

Their footsteps seem to echo in the vastness of the chamber, and as Faye looks around the place, she cannot help the feeling that the entire place is designed to intimidate and cow those who approach it. It stands as a monument to power, and scornful pride.

It feels unreal. Here they are, at the farthest end of the continent. This is where Mila is supposed to be held. The final struggle, assuming there even is one, will be held here.

And yet now, at this crucial moment, Faye finds that she can't concentrate. Everything seems to be swimming in and out of focus. Her limbs burn with an unnatural fatigue, and her thoughts continue to churn and roil as they venture deeper into the bastion.

Celica. _Celica._ She had led them all here. For what? If asked a day ago Faye would have said that they were here to bring back Mila. Even if by some chance she had grown mad, they could worry about all that after she was safely returned to Zofia. But now... what was Celica planning? What did she intend with that man; the one who had killed Sonya?

 _Sonya._ As her thoughts drift back to the deceased, Faye feels her throat tighten again, and she swallows, trying to force the pain down. Her breath comes out in harsh gasps, and she feel the same sensation of helpless panic as when she'd been looking down at Sonya's broken body.

Ahead of them, she can hear Saber giving commands and directing them to move further in. A quick glance to the side tells her that Celica is in no fit state to be taking charge right now. And Faye can't help the warring impulses of worry and vindictive anger that flare in her.

Scattered shouts of warning from up ahead tell her that they've made contact with members of the Faithful, but their numbers are few and they are easily dispatched. Faye isn't even needed to heal anyone, and neither is Genny.

 _Genny._ A pang strikes her heart as she realizes that she's been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and anger that she had forgotten about her friend. She turns, and sees Genny leaning heavily on her staff as she totters forward, looking on the verge of collapse. Mae and Boey are at her side, looking unsure if they should physically support her or not.

Swallowing again, Faye crosses the distance between them. “Genny?” Her voice is soft, as if she's subconsciously afraid that speaking too loud will cause her friend to shatter.

There's no response.

“Genny,” she repeats, just a little louder this time. “Genny, are you o-”

“I- I didn't-” Genny speaks up, her voice trembling with strain. She doesn't look Faye in the eye. “I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save her. All my training, and practice and – and-” The shaking in her shoulders becomes more violent and her breath now comes in rapid gasps.

And Faye doesn't know what to say. How to respond. Her hands are shaking as they find their way to her shoulders, grasping on to her, offering – support? Comfort? She doesn't know?

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Mae, hesitantly opening her mouth as if trying to say something, but it's not her voice that rings through the halls.

“Pull yourself together,” Deen is glaring at her with his one good eye as he stands, arms folded. “If the enemy attacks in force you'll be helpless the way you are now.”

“That's enough, Deen,” Saber snaps from the other side of their group. He turns and walks closer, giving a concerned glance in Genny's direction as he does so. “She's just had a huge shock. Give her the time she needs.”

“We're in enemy territory. That means you're either an asset or a liability.” Deen shakes his head once. “We don't have time to indulge your selfishness, girl.”

Fury surges in Faye, white-hot, and she whirls on him, fists clenched and teeth bared. “What?” Her voice is shrill and it echoes off the cavernous walls. “ _Selfish_ ? How dare you! I don't know if you even know what the word means, but Sonya was our _friend-!_ ” A hand on her shoulder silences her and she glances backwards to see - “Genny?”

She shakes her head once, a numbed expression on her face. But then she raises her eyes, meeting Deen's without flinching.

“Then who is she crying for?” Deen's gaze is even as he looks at the cleric. “Sonya? The dead have no use for your tears. If you care for those around you, then use your strength to protect those you still can. And save the mourning for when the battles are done.”

Genny is silent, but after a long moment she draws in a deep breath and nods. Her grip on her staff tightens, and though her eyes are still watery, she stands straighter now, and her face is calm.

“You're right.” Her voice is soft but clear. “I'll have time to grieve for Sonya later.”

Deen doesn't say anything else, but Faye thinks she sees him moving his head – something like a nod – before he turns, keeping an eye on what lies ahead. The rest of the party continues walking, although Faye notes that Mae and Boey are still sticking close to Genny.

“Well damn,” she hears Saber mutter and give a smile – a look of pride? – as he looks at Genny walking ahead. “Sure as hell wasn't much of a pep talk. But it looks like it worked.”

“She's still hurting,” Faye mumbles. _We all are._ And though Genny is making an effort to focus now, Faye knows the pain runs deep and raw and it won't go away so easily.

“I know she is.” He turns and gives her a sideways look. “I know you are too.”

And Faye doesn't respond. What is there to say?

A moment of silence as the two continue walking. Finally, Saber sighs.

“I got the feeling this would happen. Just... never thought it would be this late.”

“...This?”

“Well,” he shrugs, as if uncomfortable at the thought, “somebody dying, I mean. Not exactly something unheard of in battle and all. Hell, with the princess and her friends being a bunch of greenhorns, I would've guessed it would've happen a lot sooner, too.”

“Greenhorns?” The word doesn't fit Celica nor her friends – not from when she'd first seen them again after so many years back in Ram. They already bore the marks of people who had seen combat firsthand, and who had taken lives before.

But then she supposes Saber would have met them before this.

“Yeah, when the lass was just setting out,” Saber speaks his confirmation before Faye has a chance to ask. “Priory girl – probably never seen the outside of the place in years. A ripe mark for anyone to scam. Figured bodyguarding someone like her would be easy money, especially with the dagger she was willing to put up as payment.”

Faye can't help herself, and she lets out a snort at the idea that trekking all the way from southern Zofia to the northernmost point of Rigel and getting involved in countless battles along the way was anything approaching 'easy'.

Saber smiles as well, a quick flash of emotion before it vanishes. “First time she decided to go pick a fight with pirates, I thought she had a death wish. She and her friends from the place. 'Course I wasn't too worried about myself, but those kids... hell, maybe the Mother really was watching over them, given how often they made it out without a scratch.”

Another pause. From ahead comes Palla's voice – they've found the stairs that lead higher up the tower. And the group quickens their pace.

“To be honest, I figured it couldn't last. Sooner or later one of them was going to mess up out there, and then we'd be down a man.” Saber shakes his head. “Had a speech all planned out too. How this wasn't fun and games or some swashbuckling adventure on the high seas. Being reckless and looking for fights you don't need comes with a price.”

“But you didn't need to use it.” Faye's voice is a soft murmur.

“No... after a while I figured the princess knew what she was doing.” Saber sighs. “And I think giving her that speech now would just be a little too condescending. No one wants to lose someone... but at this point it's not like everyone doesn't know the stakes.”

The irony in Saber's words cause Faye to flinch, though thankfully Saber doesn't appear to notice. She manages a nod as she looks ahead to where Celica is walking, her back to them, her sword drawn.

Choking down the sudden surge of emotion, Faye takes a deep breath and quickens her pace.

(X)

As they proceed through the tower, they quickly run into guardians – more priests and soldiers of the Faithful, as well as Terrors that stand in silent vigil. And further on, spectral soldiers that bear an eerie resemblance to the ones that Genny had called up in the desert so long ago, wading into the melee with a deathly silence.

“Rest now,” she hears Conrad say after they succeed in putting down another wave of the ghostly warriors, “you who swore eternal service to Duma. Your long watch is at an end.” He makes a strange gesture that she supposes is significant to the Duma Faith before moving on.

The battles are over quickly, but they still tax the party, and Faye is grateful for the chance to rest when they chance upon a room with a fountain in it. After giving Flora a drink, she stumbles over to a nearby crate and settles herself heavily upon it.

Fights are straightforward. In there, there is only survival, and victory. Defeating the foe, driving them off, and being allowed to proceed. Whenever calm descends and Faye is left to the silence of her thoughts, her thoughts rise to torment her again.

The pinnacle. Celica had promised that everything would be made clear there.

She closes her eyes, presses her hands to her forehead. She wants this to all be over. For the dawn to break, for there to be a happy ending...

For her to be able to go home.

A vision swims in her mind. The village, the boys waiting just outside the gates, with open arms and welcoming smiles.

She bites down the bitter laugh. Well, no matter what happens in the tower, that particular flight of fancy wouldn't be coming true any time soon.

Suddenly she feels the weight of a thick cloth settling on her shoulders. She blinks, straightens up – and nearly knocks off the blanket placed on her as she looks up at-

“L- Leon?” she sputters.

“Hey.” Leon smiles at her – the light, easy expression she'd seen before. “You looked like you could use some company.”

“I-” One hand automatically reaches up to clutch at the blanket. Her mind has suddenly gone blank. All the apologies that she'd first wanted to give him have disappeared, fallen right out of her head. “I'm, I...”

He remains silent, and his expression is understanding as he lets her work her way through her own thoughts before she speaks.

“Why...” she finally asks, her voice quavering. “Why are you...”

“Why?” A raised eyebrow. “Can't I come offer my support to a friend in need?”

 _A friend?_ Faye swallows hard and she finds she can't quite meet his gaze. “But I... back in that room, I... I said those awful things to you.”

Leon settles himself down beside her on the crate and nods.

“True,” He sighs, but the smile remains on his face. “But right now, I think you need to be comforted quite a bit more than I need to protect my silly wounded pride.”

She swallows again, and lowers her gaze to the stone floor. She can feel Leon shifting his weight beside her for a moment before he speaks again.

“Faye, listen. I'm not going to say that those words weren't hurtful. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't angry. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to ignore you when you're so obviously in pain.”

The words are gentle and warm – a soothing promise of reconciliation and friendship. And Faye finds herself clutching to them like a lifeline. Anything to help make sense of this world she finds herself in now.

“You'd really forgive me? After... everything?”

Leon doesn't reply for a long moment. And then, “I know, Faye. I know the kind of burning anger that leads you to lash out. How the whole world feels dark and empty, and you're in so much pain that it ends up spilling out to others around you.” He closes his eyes, and lets out a sad chuckle. “I know, because I did the same thing you did.”

Faye blinks. “What?”

“It was just after Gareth...” Leon breaks off, shakes his head once. “That was the name of my... the man I used to love. I told you I was devastated. And I told you that Valbar was the one who helped me recover.”

Faye nods. She remembers that night on the fortress walls.

“What I didn't tell you is that... well. The first time Valbar tried to cheer me up, I became furious instead. I yelled at him and told him I didn't need his pity. That he could take his fancy speeches and shove it.” He laughs once, a hollow sound, and one hand reaches up to massage his temple. “He was just trying to make me feel better, and I poured scorn on him for it.”

“Leon...”

“It's all right. He didn't give up on me. He gave me some time to cool off, and then he tried again.” His gaze shifts over to where Valbar is standing guard. “And... well, here we are now. The point is, I know. I've been there. And so, I'll be there for you, as long as you need me to.”

Faye feels something welling up in her chest, and for a moment she feels like she's going to burst. Instead she hangs her head. Even if Leon is being nice to her now, even if he says it okay... she needs to say it, too.

“I'm sorry.” Her words are a husky whisper.

“It's all right.” A pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is warm. “Do you want a hug?”

She doesn't trust herself to speak, and instead she nods.

A moment later, Leon's arms wrap around her, holding her close to him. Faye closes her eyes, and for a moment, she doesn't think. She doesn't worry. She just lets herself feel the sensation of being held, or being supported by someone who is there for her.

“We'll get through this, Faye.” Leon's voice holds a confidence she so desperately wants to feel. “You hear me? We'll get through all this together. So hang in there. Just for a little while longer.”

(X)

“ _Why_?” Her mounting frustration and anger and anxiety boiled over, bursting out in this single demand as she stared at Uncle Mycen. “Why did Celica have to leave?”

Uncle Mycen didn't reply immediately as he looked down at her. His house – the house Celica had stayed in while she was living in Ram – felt emptier, even though it was still occupied by two of the three people who had lived there.

Things had changed since Celica had left. Hanging out with the boys felt awkward now; none of them had adjusted to Celica's sudden disappearance that well, and Faye knew she hadn't either. In Ram, sleepy quiet Ram where things almost never changed, such a sudden loss was even more jarring to them than it would have normally been.

And Celica's disappearance had hit Alm hardest of all. For the past week he'd done almost nothing but mope. Either that or wander the fields outside the village, staring off into the distance for something only he could see. Faye had always accompanied him, feeling silly and out of place as she stood watching, unable to make Alm feel better.

And she was mad too, at the loss of the only female friend she had made in her village. And she still didn't understand why. Even after his return, Uncle Mycen had refused to speak of the matter any further – at least in public.

And so she had followed him to his home. She knew Alm wouldn't be there – not during this time of the day. If there was any time where she could confront him about the matter, it would be now.

She folded her arms, trying to show that she wasn't about to back down from this issue.

“Didn't I tell you already?” He looked to the side, brow furrowed as he crossed his own arms in unconscious mimicry of her gesture. “It was for her own safety. Ram was no longer a safe place for her to stay, and so she had to find somewhere else.”

“That doesn't tell me _anything_!” Faye snapped. “You're just avoiding the question, Uncle!”

If it were her father or mother, Faye would never have taken that tone – but Uncle Mycen seemed to welcome it, if and only if it was something she felt was truly important.

Another long moment of silence. And then Uncle Mycen nodded.

“Fair enough, girl.” His voice was gruff, but not harsh as he settled himself heavily onto a chair. “You don't deserve me playing word games about this.”

She smiled and balled her fists in an unconscious symbol of victory. _Yes_! “So that means-”

“So I'll come out and say it outright: I can't tell you.”

The words were unexpected enough that she didn't respond immediately and stood there blinking for a long moment. That moment passed, and she shook her head.

“But...”

“Faye.” Uncle Mycen took a deep breath. “People have secrets. Secrets they don't always want to tell others. And Celica has a secret too. It's why she left Ram – to keep it, and herself, safe.”

She frowned. Despite his promise, it seemed like Uncle was just speaking in riddles again. “But you know what that secret is?”

“I do.” A nod from him. “And I know what you're going to ask next, so let me tell you this: The secret is Celica's. Not mine. It's not my place to reveal it.”

And that statement hurt, probably more than he'd intended it to. Because it meant that Celica hadn't found her deserving of being included in... whatever it was that she wanted to keep a secret.

“But why?” She wasn't looking at Uncle Mycen any longer. Her gaze was now on the floor, as she dug through the memory of the two of them together. “Doesn't Celica... trust me? I thought... I thought we were friends.”

“And I'm sure she thought the same.” Uncle's voice became softer. “If you're worried that her keeping secrets meant she didn't think much of you, then perish the thought, Faye.”

He stood and walked closer to her before crouching and laying a hand on her shoulder. She could feel the roughness of his skin through the thin cloth, and she had to resist the urge to fidget.

“Keeping that secret was to keep you safe. You, and Alm, and the rest of your friends. Because some secrets are dangerous, and the less people are exposed to that danger, the better.”

Faye couldn't claim to understand that, but suddenly she remembered sneering knights in armour, and the way their leader had looked at Celica like a predator hunting prey, and she felt a shudder go up her spine.

“So,” Uncle continued. “Trust in Celica, Faye. And the friendship you two had. Secrets or not, it's still real.”

That was a comforting thought, she supposed. But that worry aside, what really concerned her was-

“Uncle?”

“What is it, girl?”

“... Do you think I'll ever see Celica again?”

A smile split Uncle's face, and he nodded once.

“I believe so, Faye. In fact, I'm quite sure you will.”

(X)

The guards barring their path become more numerous the higher up they go, and the fights are starting to take their toll on the party.

After one particular tough battle against what had appeared like a swarm of Necrodragons, Faye finds herself leaning on her staff, her breathing ragged. She's not wounded – at least, not seriously, but the effort required to keep everyone on their feet is taxing her far more than she'd like to admit.

“Faye?” Catria's voice comes from behind her, and Faye looks over her shoulder to see the rider walking up. Flight was difficult even in a space as large and vast as Duma's Tower, and so she had been riding her pegasus like a horse, only taking flight in short bursts when the situation called for it.

Thoughts of that reminded her of Flora, who still walks at her side. There was no place for her to be left in safety, this deep in enemy territory, and she remains beside Faye, clearly distressed by the battles taking place all around her. Briefly Faye wondered if she should have left the pegasus in the care of Layna back in the Hamlet. But that wouldn't work – she knows that Flora wouldn't have allowed anyone but Faye to groom or properly take care of her.

She reaches up a comforting hand to stroke her pegasus' neck. _It's okay, girl. It'll be over... soon._

_Yes. Soon._

“Catria.” she nods back.

“How are you holding up?” Catria looks over her, and silently Faye wonders if she really does look as awful as she feels. She glances down at her clothes, notes the rips and tears, the dark patches of caked grime and mud. The stains of dried blood and the fresh cuts and scratches that cross her arms.

“I'm fine.” She nods and tries to keep her her expression resolute. “I mean, the fights are hard, but I doubt I have it harder than anyone here.”

“That's good, but...” Catria trails off, licks her lips, and suddenly Faye realizes that she's nervous about something. “That wasn't what I was talking about.”

Faye doesn't respond immediately. Instead she takes a deep breath, and waits for Catria to continue.

“I know that... well, losing Sonya was something of a shock.”

“Of course it was,” Faye looks up at Catria, her brow furrowed. “Sonya was my – our-”

The grief is still raw, and it comes in ebbs and flows. Now, as she thinks on it again, Faye finds herself rubbing at her eyes.

“I know. I mean...” Catria took a deep breath. “It's the first time you've lost a friend to... to war, isn't it?”

Yes, she supposes that's true. And Faye knows that Catria is a veteran of the wars that had spanned her own homeland and her continent.

“Yeah, that's true.” She takes a deep breath. “I guess you'd be pretty used to this by now, huh?”

And as soon as the words leave her mouth Faye knows she's put her foot in it again, but Catria doesn’t take offense, merely letting out a sad chuckle instead.

“Used to it? No. I don't think it's something I'll ever get used to. But I...” Another pause.

And Faye's own frown deepens. It wasn't like Catria to be so hesitant in her speech. She was reserved, yes – at least moreso than her sisters. But when she had something to say, she usually said it.

“Is something...?”

“No, it's just...” Catria finally sighs, and one hand reaches up to push through her hair. “After that fight back in the swamp, I... well, I couldn't help but notice that you and Celica were arguing. And that argument didn't appear to end well.”

That's an understatement and they both know it. Her grip on Flora's reins tightens as she looks away.

“Losing one's comrades is always a harsh blow,” Catria gaze is downcast, but her voice is kind. “But don't lose yourself to grief and anger, Faye. And you shouldn't take the anger out on others, either.”

Catria's word pierce deeper than she knows, and Faye finds she has to lower her gaze. “I'm not taking it out on anyone,” she mumbles.

“So you don't blame Celica for leading us here?”

The statement, hitting so close to the mark and yet missing entirely, elicits another snort from Faye.

_I want her to tell me what's going on._

_I want to know what she's hiding._

_I want to know... why she doesn't trust me enough to just tell me the truth._

“Do you think all of Celica's decisions are the right ones, then?” She asks, daring Catria to respond. Celica's decision to lead them through the swamp. Celica's decision to try to negotiate with that man...

“Of course not. Our leaders are human. They're not perfect. The make mistakes.” Her expression is now weary as she shakes her head. “But the mistakes that Celica do make, Faye... they weigh her down. Don't think for a second she doesn't feel Sonya's death just as harshly as you or Genny does.”

That thought settles down hard in her stomach, Faye's knowledge of Celica's kindness, her compassion, her sense of duty, warring with the knowledge that she insists on keeping her secrets, even in the face of death.

Would being unable to explain _why_ the man who killed Sonya was there make Celica feel even worse?

And for a moment, vindictive bitterness and compassion for her friend both crash together in Faye, and she closes her eyes, feeling a rush of dizziness.

“Faye?”

“I'm – I'm fine,” she mumbles, one hand reaching up to rub at her temples. “I just... even if what you say is true, Catria... how am I supposed to know that when Celica just... keeps it all bottled up? I can't – she won't open up to me at all! How am I supposed to...” She trails off and shakes her head, frustrated. Supposed to what? Even she isn't entirely sure.

Support? Berate? Comfort? Dissuade?

And at this Catria does look to where Celica is standing, still looking ahead, down the corridor, towards the next flight of stairs.

“I know what you mean,” her smile is rueful, and her gaze is distant, as if she is pulling up memories of old. “Bottling it all up... I guess she doesn't want anyone else to worry. But of course that will just make her friends worry all the more. And we can only hope the pressure itself doesn't become too great.”

“I guess...” Faye's chuckle is weary too as she takes another deep breath and squares her shoulders. “Well... if there's anything that's bothering you, you can let me know about it, okay?”

A short laugh and a nod from Catria. “Of course. And same to you.”

The conversation ends there as their march continues. They're nearing the top now. Faye can feel it.

Their destination lies just ahead.

(X)

The second time Celica tries to leave Faye behind, she still doesn't understand everything that's going on. She only knows that this time, she can't let it happen.

Upon stepping out onto the pinnacle of the tower, the first thing Faye sees is the sky. Of course the sky is always hard to miss, but up here it almost seems a living thing, black stormy clouds roiling over, with angry rumbles of distant thunder a constant backdrop.

The second thing she sees is the man standing there, smiling at them. Jedah. Sonya's killer. Almost instinctively, she brings her staff up, holding it in a ready position.

The man's gaze sweeps over their group, his eyes appearing to look past all of them until they settle on Celica.

“So you made it after all, your highness. Most impressive.” His smile grows wider as he takes a step forward. “To have surpassed all of the tower's guardians, and so quickly too! Keh heh heh... Well then. Allow me to welcome you to Duma's Tower!”

“Where is Mila?” Celica steps forward, a cold glare on her face. “I will see her now, as promised. Bring her out.”

“Patience, patience.” The man shakes his head once, and his smile takes a mocking bent. “I am afraid I lack the means to carry so heavy a burden up here just for you.”

And Faye frowns at his choice of word. The way he said it, it was as if Mila was incapable of-

“But if you merely wish to see her, then I can oblige. Behold your precious Earth Mother!”

Jedah spreads his arms, and the air before him seems to ripple, morphing into a sort of window that Faye and the others can peer through. And in that window, she sees-

She blinks. The image is... strange. Nothing like what she had expected. A statue? Of a...

Suddenly realization hits and she feels a lurch in her stomach, and her knees spasm under her.

Mila.

Divine Dragon Mila.

That statue...

“Wha – what have you done?!” Celica's horrified cry sounds distant, as Faye herself perceives that the Earth Mother has – the Earth Mother is-

“She's been turned to stone!”

“What? That's... Mila?”

“That sword in her brow! That's... isn't that Falchion?”

All at once a flurry of outraged voices, and Faye finds herself clutching at her chest.

Mila. The Earth Mother. Goddess, and Protector of Zofia.

Stone.

Dead?

They had crossed the continent, invaded Rigel, fought battle after battle against the Empire and the Duma Faithful... for this?

“See for your own eyes, what Mila has chosen!” Over the swell of voices, she hears Jedah's, a triumphant ring in his words. “Oh yes, your highness! This was Mila's own doing! When Rudolf pierced her with Falchion, she chose to turn herself to stone, sealing the blade away as well! Even I know not her motives in doing so. But the facts cannot be denied! Mila did this of her own will! Mila has left her precious children, to their own fate!”

A soft thump, and Faye turns to see that Celica has fallen to her knees. Her eyes are wide with shock as she stares, unseeing, at the altar that holds Mila's petrified form.

“This... this can't be.” Celica shakes her head once. “Mila... have you abandoned us after all? Is this... is this truly your will? I don't understand...”

“Kya ha ha! If you must understand, then understand this! There is but one solution to the dilemma you face! You know it to be true!” Jedah's smile widens and he stretches out his hand. “Come, Anthiese! Daughter of fate! As we agreed, offer your soul, so that Duma's own might be purified!”

And suddenly everything, _everything_ , falls into place, and everything about the entire situation makes all too much sense.

“Celica.” Faye's voice is barely above a whisper, outrage choking it down to almost nothing.

_This is what you couldn't tell me. This is what you've been keeping secret._

_Not about Mila. Not about Duma. About... yourself. About what you planned to do._

“Offer your soul?” Mae's eyes widen. “Celica! No way! That's insane!”

“Anthiese!” Conrad's voice now. “No! You promised me not to throw your life away!”

“I have... no choice.” Celica speech is slow, almost trance-like. Her gaze is still transfixed by the image on the altar. And as Faye looks closely, she can see that Celica is shivering. With fear? “If Mila... with Mila gone... then, only Duma is left. His soul must be saved... for the sake of Valentia's people. Even if... even if it costs me my own.”

The words sound like a death knell.

“Celica! Stop!” Mae's voice, wild and desperate. “You can't do this! Please!”

“The princess does not need your distractions!” Jedah's face now forms a dark mask, and he gestures once. “Begone now, to wherever you will!”

Suddenly the floor below them begins glowing, and Faye feels a sense of lightheadedness. As if she's floating in the air.

_A Warp spell...?_

Her gaze whips back and forth, until suddenly it lands on Celica.

Celica, still on her knees.

Celica, pale and shivering.

Celica.

Alone.

She doesn't understand everything that's going on. Mila, now petrified. Duma, going mad.

But one thing she does know.

Celica is leaving her behind, again.

Once more, to an uncertain future.

And she can't-

She can't let that happen.

Not again.

Her staff, grasped with all the strength she can muster, strikes the ground once.

_Clang._

A single note, long and sonorous, of metal striking hard against polished rock.

And Celica begins to glow silver-white. She whips around, a look of alarm on her face, as she looks directly at Faye.

Jedah's eyes widen. “What-”

The world around her dissolves into blinding white.

But.

But, an instant before that happens-

She sees Celica's body starting to fade, too.

And then, crimson agony, crushing pain like she is being impaled by a thousand needles, sears her body, and she opens her mouth to cry out, just before everything fades into darkness and silence.

(X)

“You sure you know how to do this?” Celica glanced over her shoulder at Faye, a worried look on her face.

“Of course I am.” Faye stuck her tongue out in concentration as she continued to work on braiding Celica's hair. “I've been doing this for myself since I was six, you know! Now hold still!”

“Huh!” Celica hums a note, sounding impressed. “I didn't know how to take care of my own hair when I was six!”

There was a pause. Around the two girls were the sounds of cicadas and crickets. The waxing moon shone down on the two of them through the window, combining with the candles Uncle Mycen had provided to illuminate the room.

Then Celica sighed. “Well, I still don't know much about working with hair, to be honest. Mostly it's just... there.”

“Well, you should learn how!” She paused to retrieve one of her ribbons, tying it swiftly around the first braid. “Your hair's really pretty, you know? It'd be a waste if you didn't learn how to take care of it.”

“Well...” Celica shrugged. “I don't know. Grandpapa's great at a lot of things, but I don't think he knows much about this sort of thing.”

Faye shrugged. “I could teach you!”

“Really?” Celica blinked and almost looked behind her, only stopping when Faye scolded her again not to move. “I mean... you'd be willing to?”

“Sure! It might take a while, but... well, it's not like you're going anywhere.”

There was silence in response.

“Celica?” Faye leaned over. “Did I say something wr-?”

“Hm? Oh, no, of course not! It's just... well, I don't know if I may have to leave someday.”

Faye frowned at that. She didn't like to think about Celica leaving, not after she'd finally come out of her shell and started to make friends with her and the other kids.

“Well, I hope you stay a good long while, then!” She said, and nodded for emphasis. “After all, I still have to teach you all I know about making hair look nice!”

Celica giggled and nodded. “Of course!”

“And!” Faye continued. “Even if you do go away, we'll still always be friends, Celica! For ever and ever!”

She had expected that statement to be met with a quick response of affirmation, but instead Celica stilled.

Faye blinked. “Celica?”

“Forever's a really long time, you know?” And Celica was like _that_ again. There was some hint of sadness or melancholy hanging about her that Faye never really knew how to dispel. Well, not normally.

'Celica just needs a friend. Someone who'll be by her side.' That was what Uncle Mycen had told her. So she hoped this reassurance was enough.

“Don't worry!” Faye said, injecting every bit of confidence she could into those words. “I don't give up on the ones I care about! Never ever!”

A pause, and then to her delight, Faye could see a smile coming across Celica's face. “Do you promise?”

“I promise! Friends, for ever and ever!”

A quick nod. “For ever and ever,” she repeated, her voice soft.

As the night wore on, the two of them remained. Two friends, talking and laughing with each other.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So yeah. Been keeping quite a few Chekhov Guns ready to fire over the endgame.

The Rescue spell, for one.

Otherwise, I think I can let this chapter speak for itself, mostly.

Thanks very much for reading this! Comments and reviews would be very much appreciated!


	12. When She Helped Save Celica's Soul

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The first thing Faye becomes aware of is pain.

Everything hurts. There's a hammering in her skull that makes it difficult for her to pull herself out of her state of sleepy half-awareness. Dull aches travel up and down her limbs, and as her fingers twitch, her hands throbs as if she had pulled a muscle. Faye winces. A silver knot of agony rests in her chest and belly, and as she slowly rises to the waking world, that pain flares, and she lets out an involuntary gasp.

“Faye!” That sound is familiar, and Faye blinks bleary eyes, staring up at the dim blue light. A figure in white and red appears in front of her, and it is several long seconds before it she can register who it is. “You're awake!”

“Ce... lica?” Even as she croaks out her name, Faye suddenly becomes aware of how parched her throat feels, and she coughs. “Aghk! Ah...” Pain crackles through her body.

“Don't move. You should save your energy.” The figure slowly comes into focus, of Celica kneeling at her side.

“Where...?” Faye begins, before shaking her head once and regretting it immediately. “What happened?”

That seems to be the more important question, at least right at that moment. Celica is here, with her, and not in the grasp of that Duma priest. That's enough, for now.

The expression on Celica's face is serious – and Faye can tell that she's worried as she raises a hand towards Faye.

“The Rescue spell.” Celica pauses and shakes her head once. “It's very similar to the Warp spell Jedah cast on the rest of you. So when you cast it... it backfired, at least a little.” A deep breath. “That's how you ended up in this state.

“Honestly, Faye. What were you _thinking_? Trying to use a Rescue spell while you were being Warped at the same time? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” There's an odd catch in her voice, but Faye doesn't have time to think about that right now. “How could you be so reckless?”

If Faye were being charitable, she'd know that Celica's anger is merely borne of worry – that if she's upset with anyone, it's mostly herself.

Faye is not feeling charitable right now.

“You're calling _me_ reckless?” Anger lends her a surge of strength, and she manages to pull herself halfway into a sitting position. “You tried to _sell your soul_ to Duma! How could you?”

“I – I had no choice.” The expression on Celica's face betrays her doubts and inner anguish, but Faye forges on, barely heeding her words.

“You had no _choice_?” The last word comes out in a snarling hiss – as much because of the anger choking her throat as it is the pain that spikes suddenly in her body. “Ah! – kh!” It's almost as if she's been punched in the gut – her body jerks, and her arms give way as she collapses onto the cold stone floor.

As Faye sputters for breath, Celica raises her hands and the soothing warmth of the Recovery spell fills her body. The pain ebbs – slightly.

“You need to rest.” Celica finally says when the light of her spell fades. “Your body's in a bad way, and there's a limit to what I can do with just my magic. And it'll probably be a while before anyone finds us.”

“... Finds us?” There's still so much she wants to talk to Celica about – about Duma, Mila, her bargain with that man – but she realizes from a distant corner of her mind that she's not in any shape to get upset right now. And suddenly she realizes that Celica has been acting cagey about their location. “Where are we?”

In response, Celica turns and looks behind her, her face an anxious mask. Curious, Faye follows her gaze – and her eyes widen in shock.

Not a stone's throw away from her is the massive form of a petrified dragon. The full extent of its size is difficult to make out in the dim light of the chamber, but it's enormous. It lies sprawled before them, and in the forehead of the dragon is a sword, piercing deep into it.

“Wha – what...” all of a sudden her words fail her, and Faye can only blink in surprise.

“As far as I can tell, this is the Royal Vault of Rigel.” Celica purses her lips. “And... this is where Mother Mila rests now.”

“How... how did I – did we end up here? Did Jedah...?”

“I don't think that was his intention.” Her gaze doesn't waver from the goddess. “Most likely, when you used your Rescue at the same time as his Warp, it reacted with the scrying spell he was using to let us see Mila, and that's how we were sent here instead of... well, where everyone else is.”

It's only then that Faye finally registers the empty silence of the place. Aside from her, Celica, and the statue (corpse?) of the Mother, they are utterly alone.

“Everyone else...” She trails off, barely registering Celica's own forlorn nod. They're alone now. Just the two of them.

A long silence falls. The quiet itself suddenly seems oppressive, a physical weight that presses down on her. For her part, Celica continues to stare at Mila, an unreadable expression on her face. After a moment, she seems to rouse herself and turns back to face Faye.

“You should rest...” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head once. “Who knows how long it'll be until someone finds us.”

And Faye wants to argue, but the burning pain in her gut seems to have sapped her of all strength, and all she manages is a weary nod.

Her sleep is an uneasy one, filled with dreams of Celica and Alm walking further, ever further away from her, and of shapeless horrors lurking behind the veil of darkness.

(X)

It's difficult to keep track of time in the endless gloom and quiet of the vault. Faye wavers in and out of slumber, unsure of how long she's been in there, and how long more they'll have to wait until rescue.

The pain that wracks her body does not go away. Often Faye will feel as if she is on the verge of throwing up. Her lungs tighten and heave, and she struggles to breathe as she feels her heart hammering in her chest.

Celica tells her that she's patrolled the place, and there are guardians standing watch in the lower levels of the vault. They bar the way between them and the entrance.

“I might be able to fight my way through, but...”

 _But I can barely stand. I'll be a burden on you if any fight breaks out._ Faye purses her lips and tries to shove that thought away.

What Celica plans to do should they find a way out of there, Faye carefully avoids thinking about, at least for now.

Food and water won't be a concern at least. After searching the place Celica had discovered several barrels containing magically preserved foodstuffs they would be able to use.

“Why would they keep any of it here?” She has no real appetite but nevertheless she forces herself to eat the bread given to her. “Isn't this a vault?”

“Perhaps whoever built this also intended it to be a last resort to fall back on in times of siege.” Celica gaze is distant as she picks at her own food. “Still, no matter the reason, we should be thankful.”

Conversation is muted as they both circle around the issue of what they need to do – what Celica had almost done.

For her part, Celica is withdrawn. She dutifully tends to Faye and tries to ease her pain, but otherwise she seems distant and distracted. She spends long hours simply staring at the statue of the Mother, and more than once Faye thinks she hears Celica whispering prayers under her breath, as if seeking guidance.

But the knowledge still burns within her. The thought of what Celica had been prepared to do – the thought of what she might still intend to do – makes both anger and worry blaze in her heart.

Finally, she can bear it no longer. She's seated, slumped against a stone chest while Celica sits ahead from her, staring off into nothing in particular.

“Celica.” At the sound of her name the princess raises her head. Her expression is wary. Likely she'd been expecting this for a while now.

Pausing a moment to take a breath, Faye fixes her with a look. “Tell me. What was this deal with Jedah about?”

For a moment, just a moment, a look of reticence flashes across Celica's face. But then it vanishes, to be replaced by a mask of sorrow and – relief?

“Very well. I... suppose. You've a right to know. After everything...” she trails off, and for the first time Faye gets a sense that something is easing up within Celica. As if being able to share her burden with someone makes her feel that much better.

“It was shortly after we'd just entered Rigel.” Celica takes a deep breath. “Jedah found me while I was alone, and he offered me a deal – he would let Mila go free, if I would offer my soul to Duma. He was the one who first told me... both Mila and Duma were suffering from madness. Apparently it plagues all of dragonkind sooner or later. But if I offered Duma my soul... he could be restored, and Mila would go free.”

Faye remains silent. She remembers now, Genny pondering that Celica had seemed more brooding after they'd entered Rigel. And of course Faye hadn't noticed any of it then – too proud, too spiteful of Celica's hidden heritage at the time.

“Well, the offer seemed too good to be true at first.” Celica took a deep breath. “So I told him I couldn't trust his words. He said it was fine – that I only needed to make my way to Duma's Tower, and I would see the truth for myself.”

Well, most of it fits in with what Faye already knows or suspected. Except...

“And you trusted him to tell the truth?” Her question comes out more like an accusation than she'd intended. But her own frustrations have been boiling for a while. Now that Celica seems willing to talk, she wants answers, and impatience gives an edge to her words. “Save Duma? By giving him your soul? Celica... you know how the Witches are made, don't you?”

“I know. Of course I know! But... I'm... my soul is different.” She takes a deep breath and then she tugs at the glove on her hand. Finally, the fabric comes free, and as Celica holds up her hand, Faye can see a mark on her palm – one that closely resembles Mila's White Flower.

“I remember...” she takes a deep breath. “I've seen that before... back in the village. I thought it was just a birthmark. And... Alm has one too. A lot like yours.”

A nod and Celica brings the hand close to her chest. “This isn't just a birthmark, though. It's called a Brand. It... marks me as part of the royal bloodline. And a chosen of Mila.”

“... That's why your soul is special?”

“Yes. That's why my sacrifice could save Duma. Instead of... well.” A helpless shrug. Clearly she doesn't want to talk about it.

Faye grits her teeth, and for a moment she feels her anger roiling within her. But then something about what Celica said strikes her, and she blinks.

“Wait, that Brand thing... it shows you're part of the royal bloodline? But, Alm... Alm has one too! And...” She hadn't thought about Alm's birthmark for a very long time. But now it instils a vague sense of familiarity in her.

Almost instinctively, her gaze travels up. The vault isn't lavishly decorated, but there are still banners draped around the walls. Woven on each of them is the Great Shield, the symbol of Rigel.

The cross in the centre of the symbol... it's identical to Alm's birthmark.

A shiver travels up her spine.

There's a sigh, and Faye lowers her gaze in time to see Celica's shoulders slump.

“I... suppose you've figured it out.” A sad laugh and a shake of her head. “Would it be easier for everyone, if that truth never came to light? But now... I don't think that's an option anymore. Not with Alm so deep in Rigel. On his way to the capital.”

A pause, a moment pregnant with expectation. And then-

“Alm... is royalty. Rigelian royalty. The crown prince, in fact.”

There's a moment of silence. Faye blinks, and stares at Celica. This revelation, being dropped on her all of a sudden... her brain doesn't seem to have caught up with the rest of her body. She has no idea what to say or do in response.

“But...” she finally manages after a long moment. “But Alm – he _can't_ be royalty! He's Uncle Mycen's grandson! Sure, Uncle's a great knight, and a war hero, but he's not a king or a prince! So how can Alm...” She trails off. What Celica says is true. She knows it, somehow, despite her protests. Her words have the ring of truth in them.

“It was a cover story. When Alm was just a baby, Emperor Rudolf entrusted him to Sir Mycen... to be raised in secret. For his protection, no doubt. I know because Grandfather... because Sir Mycen was the one who told me all this.” Celica lets out a frustrated sigh and looks away. “I don't know all the details. I still don't know why Emperor Rudolf decided to start a war when his son was living in Zofia, or why he invaded Mila's Temple.”

And Faye falls silent again, trying to digest the thought. Alm... and Celica.

Both bearers of the Brand.

Both chosen of the gods.

A laugh sounds through the silent chamber of the vault. It's a sad, broken sound, and it takes Faye a moment to realize that it's her own voice.

“Faye?”

“So you and Alm are both branded. Both chosen. And you both fell in love with each other from when we were all kids.” Another laugh as she leans her head back against the cool stone of the wall. And try as she might, some bitterness still seeps into her voice. And really, she supposes she isn't trying that hard any more. “I guess you two really do belong together, huh, Celica? Destiny, and all that.”

“I don't – that's not...” Celica trails off, and glances at the ground. “I... don't want to think of it that way. Alm is... he's always been kind.”

At that, Faye quietens down too. “Yes,” she says after a moment of silence, “he has.”

The conversation peters out there. Faye isn't sure she has anything more to say, and she still can't fully wrap her mind around the idea of Celica willingly giving her soul to Duma. So she sits, and waits, feeling her body burn from within.

Meanwhile, Celica stoops down and retrieves her cape. She settles down next to Faye, and draws the cloth over the two of them, to serve as an impromptu blanket.

That's how they've slept together the past few times, in an effort to share body heat without wasting too much energy. Faye feels the warmth of Celica's body, pressed up against her own, and she swallows.

“Celica...” she finally says, after the silence has stretched on for too long. “Don't. Don't do it.”

She doesn't elaborate any further. She doesn't have to.

Celica doesn't respond. At least, not directly. Under the cover of the cape, their hands find each other, and Celica gives Faye a quick, reassuring squeeze.

A few minutes later, her breathing becomes light and even.

Faye is on the verge of drifting off to sleep herself when suddenly her throat burns and her body is wracked by a coughing fit. She brings her free hand up to her mouth as she coughs, and when at last it subsides, she leans back again, gasping for air.

She knows she must have woken Celica, but at that moment that's the least of her worries.

Her hand comes away from her mouth, and she sees dark stains flecked across her palm.

For the first time, Faye realizes that she may not be recovering after all.

(X)

Faye grows weaker by the day, and Celica only grows more anxious in turn.

“We have to get you help.” She says as she paces around the emptiness of the vault. “Healers, herbs... a room, at least. A bed, and an actual blanket. A cold vault like this is no place for someone so ill.”

“Can't leave.” She's not trying to be snippy. It's just that talking takes up more effort than she'd like right now. Which ties in to the other issue of how she's supposed to walk out of here at all.

“I can.” Celica blows out a breath of air, and with her free hand, she grasps her sword. “I can fight my way out, and... then I'll find someone to come back and help you-”

“We're in Rigel.” Her stare is pointed. It's enemy territory.

“It's better than nothing!” Celica whirls to face her, and Faye can see the frustration radiating off her. “Faye, I can't heal you! Not on my own. We need to get you some help. Before you...” she trails off. She doesn't want to say it out loud. Faye supposes she can't blame her. She doesn't like thinking about it herself.

Faye draws in a deep breath, trying to gather her strength. “Let's say you do get help. Let's say you bring me to a healer, and we find the others, and we're all safe. What will you do next?”

At this Celica falls silent and looks away.

“You're... still going to do it, aren't you?” Faye bites her lip, feels that familiar black sludge of anger and anxiety rising in her again. “You're still going to sacrifice yourself to Duma.”

“We don't have any choice.” Not for the first time, that expression crosses Celica's face. Desperation, mixed with sad resignation of what she's resolved to do. “With Mila-” a helpless gesture in the direction of the stone dragon. “If Mila is gone, then we have to stop Duma's madness. If he truly does go completely insane, then... not just Rigel, but Zofia will be devastated too. You've seen what Rigel looks like under his influence! There's no other way.”

“Yes there is!” Desperation births a wild idea in her, and she remembers that muted discussion between Halcyon and Nomah. “If Duma's insanity will devastate the land, then we can – we can kill him instead! Before that happens!” Her own words sound unreal to her. Humans, standing against the gods? Slaying them?

But weighed against Celica's life, it's no choice at all.

“No you can't!” Celica's eyes blaze anew and she sweeps her hand out. “Rigel depends on Duma, Faye! And if Mila-” again the catch in her voice. Again the glance at the petrified dragon. “If Duma is the only one left, then Zofia _has_ to depend on him too! Valentia can't afford to lose the gods' favour! How long do you want this drought to last?”

Faye is a farm girl. Though she is a cleric of the Mila Faithful, she has been one for less than a year, and she is no disciple of theology. And yet...

“Duma has never helped with the growing of crops, Celica. Not once.” Her voice is low. “You were the one who taught me that.”

Celica pulls short in her rant, instinctively clutches at the Brand on her hand. “That was just an – Once Duma is restored we'll be able to talk to him. I mean – it's not like he's just some machine or anything. He'll be reasonable-”

“You don't know that. You can't say for sure.”

“And you don't either!” Celica's voice cracks with restraint. “You don't think I – Faye, it's not like I made this decision on the spur of the moment or something! Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if there was some other way? If – if this really was the only way to preserve Valentia? But there aren't any options! Especially now that Mila is gone! It's the correct decision. It's the _only_ decision!”

“Do I know? Of course I don't!” Her body trembles with strain, but for the moment, her outrage is stronger, and she forces herself up, into a sitting position. “Because _you refused to tell us about this_! Until it was almost too late! And if you really think this was the only decision, Celica, then why didn't you trust us with it?”

The princess draws in a deep breath and looks away. “Because – you, all of you – Mae, and Boey and you – you'd have tried to stop me.”

“So you don't trust us? That's what it comes down to?” She draws in another deep breath, tries to slow her words from pouring out in a torrent. “'Oh, silly little Faye, I couldn't possibly talk to her about all the decisions I have to make. After all, _she wouldn't understand_.' Is that what you were thinking?”

“Of course not!” Celica turns to her, and now she's crouching at Faye's side again. Her expression is wounded, and as Faye looks at her she can only see a deep, pleading sincerity in her eyes. “Faye! Please... you keep acting like I look down on you or something. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Then why didn't you tell me?” _Why didn't you tell_ _us?_ Faye is panting now, gasping for breath as she feels her lungs ache. Her question is little more than a whisper, lost almost immediately to the vast silence of the chamber.

A moment of silence. And then Celica dips her head, looking at the ground. “I didn't want to burden you, Faye. Not any of you. I'm the one with the Brand. I'm the princess of Zofia. This was my duty... mine alone.”

For a moment, silence. Then she takes another deep breath and continues.

“I... saw Alm.” She swallows, and her voice takes on a strange bent to it, as if she's forcing it out through a tightened throat. “It was in a vision. Just before I set out on this journey. He was fighting Rudolf – the Rigelian Emperor. His father. And – no matter the outcome of that fight, I knew Alm would be devastated by it. And I know now that there are others in the Duma Faithful who – They don't need _me_ specifically. Any Brand-bearer's soul will do.

“I wanted to protect Alm. I wanted to protect all of you. The village and the priory. I loved those dreamlike days. That's why I set out on this pilgrimage in the first place. And that's why... this is all I can do now. This is the only means left to keep everyone safe.”

Again silence descends. Faye concentrates on breathing, as much to regather her strength as it is for her to concentrate on properly making her response.

“You wanted... to protect us.” She finally says. Her voice is soft. She can't manage more than that. “You wanted to take the burden on by yourself. This is... your duty.” She pauses, shakes her head once.

“Celica. Do you have _any_ _idea_ how many people I've killed?” And before Celica can respond, Faye continues. “Because I don't. I lost count a long time ago.”

She honestly had. Somewhere in Rigel. During the endless trudging through the vast swathes of swampland. Ambushes and skirmishes had blurred into each other, and nothing stands out in the messy haze of her memory.

“I've walked from one end of the continent to the other. I've crossed the desert and practically been boiled alive. I've frozen half to death wandering Rigel through the nights on patrol. I've been wounded and injured and doused in fell magic more times than I can count. I've been one half-second from being killed at least three times. The only restful night's sleep I've had in _months_ is when I take drugs before I go to bed. Otherwise I get endless nightmares, every single night. And I also gave myself an internal injury of some kind to get you away from Jedah. All because one day you came back to Ram and we happened to run into each other in Alm's house.”

Celica's laugh is sad. “I know. It's absurd, isn't it? I just talked a nice spiel about protecting you and keeping you safe, but in the end I dragged you along and exposed you to the horrors of war. So-”

“No, you don't understand.” Summoning all the strength she can muster, Faye pulls herself closer to Celica and grasps her arm, as if to hold her close, and not let her leave ever again. “I said all that so I could tell you, 'I would do it again.'”

Celica blinks. Her mouth hangs open, ever so slightly. Faye takes a deep breath and plunges on.

“I'd do it again,” she repeats. “As long as I'd have to. As many times as I'd have to. As long as it meant I could help you, and keep you safe. Because you are my _friend_ , Celica. And I _want_ to support you.” She feels the pain in her stomach flare, and her gasps for breaths intensify. Apparently even this effort had taken more out of her than she'd thought it would. But she presses on. It's important – so important that she says what she has to say. That she get through to Celica. “You want to keep us safe, Celica? I want to keep you safe too. We all do. All of us. So don't... don't ever feel you have to bear it all on your own...”

Celica seems to be trembling, but before she can say anything in response, there comes the sound of footsteps behind them. Any hope of it being a rescue is quashed when Faye hears an unpleasant laugh.

“Keh heh heh. So, Anthiese! This is where you were spirited off to.” She can see Jedah looming behind Celica, a satisfied smirk on his face. “I don't know why I didn't think to search the royal vault sooner! Was it perhaps your great devotion to Mila that drew you here? No matter! Come. The preparations for the ritual are complete. Lord Duma awaits.”

Celica hasn't turned around to face Jedah. She continues to look deep into Faye's eyes, and Faye can see the anguish written on her features.

“Celica, no! Don't listen... to him...” she lapses into silence. Her mouth opens, but she cannot force air out, nor turn it into words. Her strength is failing now; her attempts to grab Celica fail, and she crumples to the floor, feeling pain intensify all over her body.

And from Jedah, a mocking laugh.

“You're that little mouse who drew her away, weren't you? Are you now trying to dissuade the princess from her sacred duty?” He shakes his head once, and shifts his stance to face Celica. “Anthiese! I do not doubt that you are worried about the enormity of your sacrifice! But you are made of stronger stuff than that, are you not? Don't allow yourself to be swayed by fond nothings or empty words! You are not a child, and the time for running from the truth is long past. Or... I see. The girl is badly wounded, isn't she? By her own foolish gamble, I'll be bound. Well, it'll be a simple matter to see to her needs... _if_ you're willing to uphold your end of the bargain.” His grin spreads wider, seemingly too big for his thin face.

An eternal moment of silence and stillness, and then-

Celica nods once.

“You're right,” She says as she stands. Her face is low and her expression is hidden from Faye's sight. “No more running away. No more looking for the easy way out.”

“Ce... lica...” _Why? My hands... my arms... if only... I could... reach out..._

“For so long... I thought it was simple. Let _me_ take the burden. Let _me_ be the one to suffer. As long as my friends are safe. As long as I can protect everyone else, then no price is too great to pay.” Finally Celica lifts her head, and then there is a sad chuckle. “I was a fool.

“I am not alone. I always knew that, but somehow... it took me so long to truly _understand_ that. That whatever suffering I take on myself, it will hurt my friends too. I can't... ever escape that. I can't just say that I'll be the sacrifice and act like it means my friends aren't harmed by what I've just done.”

“Preposterous! You speak of hurt feelings? Your actions will decide the future of all Valentia!”

“And that is precisely why I was too rash.” Celica turns to face Jedah, and now Faye can see her face is set in a determined glare. “I am a princess, and I am a Brand-bearer. But I do not stand alone. And so I cannot rush on ahead, alone. There is so much more we can do – together – to decide the correct path.”

“Celi...” _Oh, thank the gods._

“Foolish girl!” Jedah's voice thunders as he steps closer, and Faye can feel the gathering magic in his hands. “There is no other way! Only your soul can free Duma from his madness! Surely you must see this!”

“And if it _is_ true that there is no other way than my sacrifice, then so be it!” Celica reaches down, and now the Beloved Zofia gleams silver-white in her hand. “But it will happen with the full knowledge and consent of those dear to me! And it will _not_ happen at the behest of someone who would use my friends' lives as bargaining chips!”

Jedah's face is now a dark mask of rage, and he raises his hands to release his spell. “So, you will refuse? I had such hopes you would prove reasonable. But I suppose it comes down to force in the end. Very well! All Lord Duma needs is your soul. The state of your _body_ will not matter, as long as you yet draw breath.”

Faye is helpess to offer support or aid as the two combatants clash – a fiery explosion that bursts out from Celica's palms, and a wave of annihilating darkness coming from Jedah's. She sees Celica stumble back, wincing in pain, and all she can do is curse her own weakness. If only she were a little stronger. If only she could do _something..._

Celica darts in, slashing at Jedah, but the priest seems to shrug the blow off, and his retaliation forces Celica back, sending Celica sprawling onto the floor by the petrified Mila.

Faye grits her teeth as she sees her clamber to her feet. _Celica!_

_**Take heart, daughter.** _

Golden light floods the room, and Faye blinks, disoriented. That voice... it seemed to come from – she glances over at the dragon statue – and she sees the blade embedded in the brow, no longer stone, but shining with golden light.

“What?” She hears Celica's gasp, and she sees her glancing around for the source of the voice. And then she looks behind her – at the stone dragon. “Mila?”

_**I have heard your words. I have seen your conviction. If you trust in your strength, and the strength of those dear to you, then seize Falchion now in your hands.** _

“Mila?” She can hear Jedah's outraged cry. “You would turn on your brother? Your flesh and blood?!”

Even as he continues his tirade, Celica turns, grasping Falchion with both hands and drawing the sword from its resting place. And as she does so, the golden light intensifies, and Faye has to look away.

Suddenly... warmth bathes her body, and she feels all her aches and pains of the past days fade. Strength floods her limbs, and Faye springs to her feet.

_**Child of Zofia, of Ram. I have seen your devotion, and your spirit. Take what strength I have to offer you, at the last of my life.** _

Faye blinks at the words. The voice is kind, and warm. And... familiar, somehow. But there's no time to ponder it right now – there's still a battle underway.

She sees Celica charging Jedah, Falchion in her hands and she slashes down. Jedah evades – just barely. The blade is longer and heavier than what Celica is used to and it had thrown her aim off enough that she was unable to land a decisive blow. Jedah counters with a spell of his own, and Celica is knocked back once more.

Faye is at her side in an instant. “Celica!”

Celica looks up at her. “Faye? You're up!”

“It was...” _Mila?_ That seems a good enough guess, but Faye isn't sure right now, so she shakes her head. “Never mind! Come on, Celica! We still have to beat him!”

“Impudent brats!” She can see Jedah advancing on them. “Even if you've unsealed Falchion, I need only make sure news of that, and that accursed blade, never leaves this vault!”

“If I could just...” Celica lifts Falchion once more, her gaze shifting between the glowering priest and the shining sword in her hands. “There's so much magic energy stored in the sword. If I had... just a bit more strength left...”

And Faye remembers day after day of Celica crouching at her side, expending her magic to keep her stable. She can feel the afterglow of Mila's healing spell (it can't be anyone but the Mother, could it?), flooding her body with energy.

She closes her eyes. Focuses. Words seem to pour into her mind, from where she does not know.

Even as she lays her hands on Celica's shoulders, the spell takes shape in her mind.

“Power given. Power returned.” She pauses, takes a deep breath. “Let life flow from the heavens down.”

The magic in her surges, a white-hot sensation that gathers in her belly. But it doesn't hurt. She focuses, and that energy hums, responsive to her mental call.

“Life's circle is unbroken. As power gathers, it is passed on. What is learned is taught to others. What is gathered is given away in turn.”

That energy gathers and surges, through her chest, down her arms, resting now in her palms that rest on Celica's shoulders in turn. Ready to be given away. Ready to be passed to Celica.

“Let the Accord by fulfilled!” Her voice rises, and distantly she can hear an echo in her words, so much like when Genny had cast her strongest spells. “By the Father, power is gathered. By the Mother, power is given away. And with what strength lies in these hands of mine, _let it become strength for others in turn!_ _ **ANEW!**_ ”

The transfer of so much raw magic energy from Faye to Celica is overwhelming, and Faye feels her knees buckle under her. But Celica steps forward, and for a moment, she is surrounded in an aura of blazing white.

“What?” She hears Jedah's incredulous statement as Celica raises her hands. Faye blinks as she sees the brand on Celica's hand – now shining a brilliant red.

“Twilight approaches. Let the world be bathed in crimson hue, and may purifying fire bring ruin to those who stand against me! O scorching, consuming cage of flames, come forth!” Celica thrusts her hand out, aiming the spell at Jedah. “ **RAGNAROK OMEGA!** ” And from her hand, a vast plume of fire is called forth, bathing the entire chamber in a searing heat.

The sheer power of the spell is greater than anything Faye has seen before, and she's forced to raise her hand and shield her eyes from the glare of the explosion. She hears a cry of agony, as if coming from very far away, but she can't look, and she can't tell what's happening.

Finally, the light fades, and Faye sees Celica, standing there, unsteady on her feet, and gasping for air as she lowers Falchion to the ground.

Of Jedah, there is no sign.

“Did we... get him?” she asks after a long moment.

“I'm... not sure...” Celica looks just as exhausted as she is, but after a moment she turns to Faye, a question in her eyes. “Faye... that spell...”

Faye shakes her head. “I'm... not sure where it came from either. It's like the words just popped into my head.”

But before they can say anything else, there's a clattering noise from the far end of the vault. And then – a voice.

“Celica? … And Faye! What in the world- What are you doing here?”

Faye freezes.

_Alm?_

After a long moment, she turns to face the exit of the vault.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I hereby make you all a solemn promise that no matter how long I continue to write SoV stories, whenever my writing takes me back to this spot I will never ever play that terrible 'Trust in Falchion' scene straight.

Of course, when I write the big climactic scenes, the more afraid I get of screwing it all up myself.

Originally this was intended to be one big chapter with what is now going to be the next chapter, but the way the writing worked out it seemed better to break it off here, specifically just before the point where they reunite with Alm. End result is a shorter chapter, but oh well.

Thanks for reading the story! As always, comments and criticisms are very welcome!


	13. When She Stood Alongside Celica and Alm

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The realization that Alm had chosen to _leave_ had struck Faye like a thunderbolt.

She wasn't exactly sure why it had, really. After all, she'd known... she'd always known that one day he would leave the village, that one day he would outgrow its walls.

Yes, she'd always know this day would come.

But she'd never expected for it to come this soon.

The Deliverance knight had appeared out of nowhere, bringing news of the King's assassination and a plea for Uncle Mycen's help against the usurpers. And Faye had found herself fighting down a flash of indignation at people travelling to call him out of his well-earned retirement, just to help them deal with their own troubles.

But when Alm went to call him, Uncle had vanished, with no one having seen where he had gone off to.

And she had thought the matter settled. Secretly happy that Uncle wouldn't be called away to a war that had nothing to do with him, she returned to the chores for the day. It was a shame that the soldier was returning empty-handed, but if they were sending just one man, surely this couldn't have been that vital a task for the Deliverance, or whatever it was.

She was a fool. Or perhaps she had simply refused to see the truth that was staring her in the eye.

Later in the day, as the sun began to dip low in the distance, and the light was beginning to be tinted ever so slightly orange, Faye carried the bucket to the well, to draw more water for her family.

Just in time to catch a glimpse of a boy in armour as blue as the ocean, vanishing through the village gates, amidst a small group of people.

She recognized that armour immediately. How could she not? She had been there when Uncle Mycen had presented it to Alm as a gift, and she could still remember the delight on his face as he held it in his hands, looking over every bucket and plate and strap.

The empty bucket thudded onto the dirt beside her. And an instant later she had been sprinting, as fast as she could, for the gates, desperate to reach them before her friends... what?

Left? Vanished?

For good?

“ALM! _WAIT_!”

She stumbled as she passed through the gateway, glancing wildly around. There was no sign of anyone.

Not Alm. Not the Deliverance soldier. Not Gray, or Tobin, or Kliff.

Faye doubled over, panting, feeling a faintness that started in her chest before rising to her head. And as she stared down the dirt road that led away from the village and into the woods, into the wild, vast _unknown,_ she knew-

Alm had left her behind.

(X)

At the sound of Alm's voice, Faye turns.

And she finds herself staring into the face of someone she barely recognizes.

He looks... _almost_ familiar. The same messy hair. The same blue green eyes. That blue armour he'd always bore, now more dented and scarred.

But.

_But._

The way he carries himself, in a manner more sure-footed and deliberate that she had ever seen before. She had always admired the straightness of his back and the strength in his arms. Now she can almost believe that they had been made of freshly forged steel.

The look on his face. It's the same, yet not. As if he's grown a decade in the year since she's last seen him. Wiser? More mature? She lacks the words.

And most of all, his eyes. The pain in them, of a boy who had been through suffering and loss and had come out bearing scars.

A single look, and she knows.

The boy she'd seen leaving the village that fateful day, is gone. Forever? She doesn't know. She's not sure she wants to. In his place is... a prince? A leader? A man?

_Alm..._

She had dreamed of this moment for so long. Even after knowing that her feelings for him would not be returned, she'd wanted to see him again, wanted to make sure, with her own eyes, that Alm was _all right_ , and now-

Now, all of a sudden, she finds herself at a loss for what to say, unable to turn the feelings in her heart or the thoughts in her head into actual words. Her legs carry her forward, a single step-

“Alm!”

The voice sounds through what had been the quiet of the chamber, and Faye sees Celica rushing over to Alm, throwing her arms around him. Faye lets out a shallow breath and tries to ignore the twisting feeling in her belly.

She swallows once, and forces herself not to look away.

“Celica!” Alm's return shout is delighted as well, if a but confused, and for a moment there is only silence, with the two of them embracing each other.

“What are the two of you even doing here?” Alm asks when they finally pull away.

“It's... a lot has happened.” Celica sighs and shakes her head before her tone becomes softer, more worried. “Well, the details can wait for later, but Faye, she saved me... from making a big mistake.”

Alm raises his head at this and gives her a smile, and a questioning look. She manages her own awkward smile in reply before Celica speaks again, this time with a worried tone in her voice.

“But Alm... if you're here, in the Royal Vault, then... you've found out, haven't you?”

“You mean about my... heritage?” The last word comes out slowly, as if Alm himself is stumbling over the idea. But he nods once, and for a moment his face shifts, as if he is fighting to keep some sorrow from showing.

Faye swallows again, trying to remind herself that Alm, the Alm she's known and grown up alongside, is actually royalty. A prince.

“I'm sorry,” Celica's voice is soft even as her hold on him tightens. “I didn't want you to have to find out. At least, not like this. I thought... there'd be some way to spare you the pain. But I couldn't do anything.”

“It's all right,” his voice is warm. So comforting. And Faye has to bite her lip to prevent herself from speaking out.

_This is their moment._

_Their reunion._

_Not mine._

She has to move past it. If she can't even see them like this now, what will she do in the future?

“It's all right,” Alm repeats. “Emperor Ru- my father knew the consequences of his actions. He went into it willingly. And... he's given me a task to fulfil.”

Celica blinks and pulls away slightly from Alm. “A task?”

“Yes. He told me that Duma was going mad. And that I had to slay Duma in his stead. That's why I'm here in this vault. Apparently there's supposed to be a sword in here called the Falchion that-”

“ _WHY?_ ” A sudden yell rings in Faye's ears, and now Celica's pushed herself away from Alm and is staring up at him, her eyes glimmering with hurt and pain. “You too, Alm? The gods have sustained Valentia for _centuries_! Duma and Mila both! Why is your – why is _everyone's_ first impulse to kill them the moment they stop helping us?” She breaks off to take a deep gulp of air, and her Faye sees her fists are now clenched.

“Celica.” Quietly, Faye moves to stand at her side, and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looks up, catching Alm's eye and finds a frown on her own face.

“I didn't-” Alm sighs and shakes his head once. “I'll admit it. I don't know all the details. And trying to kill the gods feels surreal, even now. But Grandfather told me that there was no other way, and that the madness isn't just affecting Duma – it's corrupting his closest followers too. If left unchecked, the gods won't just stop helping – they'll become an active danger to all of us.”

“Grandfather too?” And Celica's shoulders slump, her expression becoming more tired and weary. Faye remembers her own outburst moments earlier, and she can only wonder how much it pained Celica to hear those words from her lips. “Even he thinks like that? Is there... truly no other way?”

Faye can find nothing to say in response, and apparently neither can Alm. For a moment, there is only silence in the emptiness of the vault.

_**Raise your head, daughter.** _

The voice once again fills the room, and all three turn to face the statue. A golden light shines once more, and Faye covers her eyes. When the light fades slightly, Fate can now see... a person standing, looking down at them.

She looks human. Almost. But the hair that spreads behind her splits into the shape of beautiful wings, the horn in her forehead, and the tail that sprouts from her back belie her true nature. Almost instinctively, Faye gets down on bended knee as she recognizes the person for who she is.

“Earth Mother!” Alm's voice comes out as a gasp. A small smile comes across the vision's face and she nods once.

“ **I am indeed known by that name... though as I am, I can no longer bless the soil or grant you the bounties of the land. Listen well, for my power wanes, and my time is short.”**

“Mother Mila!” She sees Celica stepping forward, her face tight with anxiety and anticipation. “Is there no other way? Can we not save you, and Duma too?”

Mila closes her eyes and her hands come together. **“It was always such, daughter. The blade you hold now is the Falchion. I** **t** **was** **forged** **from** **the fang of our** **ruler, Naga, for this very purpose. For she knew better than anyone that** **madness is the fate of all dragons, sooner or later.** **T** **he blade was created that humans would have the means to destroy us. When we threatened the lands and the peoples that we had sworn to protect and nurture... humans would have a way to free themselves of our chains.** **For only that which comes from a dragon** **can** **slay a dragon.** **”** A sigh, and Mila lowers her head. **“** **We knew this too, and we had even made our own preparations to that end.** **Yet, I panicked and tried to seal the** **sword** **away, to protect my brother, even as I knew** **that his mind had fallen to ruin** **. That was foolish of me.”**

“But...” Celica casts about, glancing left and right, before looking down at the brand on her palm. “Jedah said the soul of a Brand-bearer would be able to cure your madness! Is that not true?”

“ **I know of no method that would restore a dragon that has fallen to decay** **.** ” Mila shakes her head once. **“But even if that were true, I would gladly choose a noble death over feeding upon the souls of my own children to live. And were my brother of a lucid mind, he would tell you the same.”**

And at this, Celica lowers her head, her eyes closed. Faye sees Alm moving closer to her, to rest a hand on her shoulder.

And then the Earth Mother leans down, and one hand reaches out to touch Celica's forehead, ever so slightly. A gentle smile comes upon her face.

“ **Dearest Anthiese... Celica. The love you feel for me and Duma both... you have overcome so very much, so that you could help us. Thank you. Humans have already grown so strong, before I ever noticed. You have the strength to live, and to fight for the world you desire. Of that, I am certain.”** She breathes out, and suddenly Faye realizes that the Earth Mother's skin is deathly pale, and that she speaks only with an effort. **“Bearers of the brand, I have one last request.”**

“Name it.” Alm speaks before Celica does. Her head is lowered, and she appears deep in thought.

“ **My brother suffers still. Locked in a cage of his own mind. I beseech you, free him from his torment. Grant him rest.”**

Faye can see Alm opening his mouth, but he catches himself and takes a worried glance to his side, at Celica.

“We will.” And it's Celica who speaks up now, before Alm does. She raises her head, face now cast in a determined light and her hand now grasping tightly onto Falchion. “We'll lay Duma to rest. I promise you.”

Mila doesn't respond directly. But her smile widens. And even as her vision begins to fade, Faye can't help but think that the Earth Mother looks so terribly peaceful as she passes on.

All at once, the chamber is dark and silent again. The three of them stand in quiet contemplation for a moment, before Alm turns to Celica.

“Celica... are you sure?”

“If we can really stand on our own two feet, and make our way without the gods?” Celica laughs, and looks down at the brand in her palm. “I honestly don't know, Alm. But, I want to try. I _want_ to believe in us. In the strength that Mila saw. And...” she closes her eyes, and her hand folds into a fist as she raises it to her heart, “I want to free Duma from his pain, too. If this is the only way to grant him peace, then so be it.”

As Celica speaks, Faye stands, silent and listening. She knows she'd taken umbrage at Celica before, at leaving her out and claiming she wouldn't understand the affairs of the gods and royals. But now, here, being faced with the actual decision of slaying Duma and taking responsibility for the deed... her knees feel weak at the idea, and she can't imagine what it would be like to stand as the one to make the choice, and to carry it out.

“Faye?” Suddenly, a voice pierces the fog of her doubts and she lifts her head to see Celica offering her a hand. “Come on, we should be going. There's no sense in staying in this musty old vault any longer.”

“Oh, ah – yes!” And Faye stumbles forward, grasping hold of Celica's hand – and her grip suddenly tightens.

“But before we go...” And she can see the smile on Celica's face before she turns to look at Alm. “Alm. Don't you have something to say to Faye?'

“Huh?”

“Eh?” Faye isn't sure which of them had spoken first, but regardless it's clear that Alm is as surprised by this statement as she is. She looks at Celica, seeking answers, but her only response is a slight smile.

“I'll just give you two some room.” Celica's smile only widens she moves further away, towards the entrance of the vault, leaving the two of them alone.

For a moment, the two of them stand, staring at each other, unsure of what to say. It's funny, Faye thinks. When first she had seen him again after so long, she had thought he'd looked so much older and sterner. But now... now that he's in front of her again, she can see the same Alm she remembered whenever he'd gotten into trouble, climbing a tree or messing up on chores. That slightly awkward pose, that sheepish half-smile.

She closes her eyes, feeling that familiar pang that rests in the pit of her belly. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and says it. The thought that had burned in the back of her mind, since so many months ago, since that fateful day in the village.

“You left me behind.”

The statement is simple, and it is devoid of judging tones. But when she opens her eyes she sees Alm has lowered his head, and he gives a half nod.

“I did. I'm sorry.”

“... Why?” As she speaks, she feels the old questions and worries bubbling up again, and she struggles to keep herself composed, to keep her expression and voice even. “You could have at least told me... you could have at least _asked_.”

“I know, I-” Alm breaks off, looks up at the empty ceiling of the vault. “Faye... I didn't know what real fighting was like when I left. All I knew were the old stories Grandfather had told me, about the horrors of war. Even then I knew it wasn't the sort of thing that was healthy for anyone. And I know if I'd come to you, you'd have insisted on coming along.”

“Of course I would have! You were marching off to _war_! You think if I had a choice I'd sit it out and twiddle my thumbs to wait for news of you coming home?” She feels the anger and indignation rising in her, and she knows she now has a frown on her face.

“I know. And I thought... it wouldn't be a good path for you.” Alm closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Faye, I know. I know you would have followed me if given the choice. But your only reason would be that it was to follow _me_. Gray and Tobin and Kliff, they all had their own reasons for saying yes. And I did, too. But you...”

“So you're saying our friendship isn't a good enough reason?” Faye bites her lips and resists the urge to gesture in Celica's direction. “Because that's why I'm here right now, Alm. Because Celica came back to Ram after _you_ left without a word, and she let me come along with her. And no, I'm never going to claim I had a good time of it. But it was _worth_ it, all of it. Because I could help Celica. I could keep her safe. And I told her this, and I'm telling you now: I'd do it again! Over and over, as many times as it would take.”

“Yeah, you're right. I'll admit it. I was wrong. I was worried about you so I tried to protect you. But that didn't justify running off without even telling you about it.” Alm squares his shoulders and offers her a contrite smile. “I'm sorry.”

She lowers her head and sighs, “It's all right. It's just... I was so worried about you, Alm. You, and everyone else. I was...”

_So lonely._

A soft laugh from his causes her to raise her head.

“Well, it's a good thing Celica stopped by in Ram, wasn't it? From what I understand, you had quite the journey of your own.”

Faye doesn't respond immediately, as she remembers the trudging through the mountains, and the deserts, and the swamps...

And she remembers the other members of Celica's band. Leon, Genny, Catria...

The people she'd come to know so well.

The people she'd come to call her friends.

And she nods.

“Yeah,” she says, and she can feel a smile on her face, “a good thing.”

Then that smile vanishes, and she bites her lip.

_They're still out there. I have no idea where Jedah sent them to._

“Come on, Alm!” She gives a quick nod. “We still have to find the others! And Duma...”

Alm gives a nod of affirmation, and turns to head towards the exit.

“But, one more thing.” And at her voice, he comes to a halt again and looks back at her with questioning eyes.

She smiles at him, and for a moment she remembers the quiet, peaceful days spent under the summer sun. Days spent hard at work in the fields, dinners filled with the chatter and the laughter of friends. Their life in the village, a year and a lifetime ago.

She nods once.

“Alm, promise me. Promise me... you'll make Celica happy.”

She doesn't say more. She doesn't need to.

In that one sentence, and that one look they share, everything is communicated. The feelings she had always held deep in her heart for him, his own knowledge of those feelings, that he had always refrained from trampling on. Her knowledge, of his affection for their mutual friend. And the knowledge that their paths will, _must_ diverge from here on out.

And, that she accepts it, as much as she possibly can.

He smiles, one both gentle and certain, and Faye is once again reminded of why she fell in love with him.

“I promise. For the rest of my life.”

“Good! All I needed to hear.”

_That's right. I can smile at this. I can smile at the two of them. And that's enough._

_For now, that's enough._

Together, they head to rejoin Celica, who is still waiting patiently for them.

(X)

As they approach the entrance of the vault, Faye notices Alm frowning.

“Is something the matter, Alm?” Evidently Celica had noticed too.

“Nothing much, it's just... there's a barrier at the entrance that prevent anyone who isn't of royal blood from entering. I'm not sure if it works in reverse.”

“Oh. Well, we warped in here... sort of.” Celica glances at Faye. “So we bypassed that entirely.”

“You know, I'm going to want to hear the whole story later.”

“You will... once we have the time.”

And then, as they approach the entrance, Faye winces. She can feel an oppressive force pressing down on her, and she knows without trying that she won't be allowed to pass through.

“It's working on you, huh?” At her side, Alm appears unaffected, aside from the worried frown on his face.”

“Let me handle this.” Celica steps forward, and Faye can now see her holding the Falchion in front of her in a ready stance. A distant part of her mind notes that Celica holds it in a two-handed grip, unlike the manner she wields the Beloved Zofia, and she wonders if the weight of the sword is a problem for Celica.

“O boundary, forged in days long past.” Celica's voice is low as she steps up to the invisible barrier. “You have served your purpose well. Yet now you bar the path of those who seek rightful passage. In the name of the Divine Dragons, _be_ _sundered_!”

She stabs forward, and flash of light fills Faye's vision. Even as she blinks the blinding spots away, she can feel the oppressive weight on her shoulders vanish as if it had never been there.

“It worked! Come on, Faye! Before it reforms!” She doesn't need to be told twice, and in moments she's standing in the middle of a dark musty cavern. And all around her are-

“Gray! Tobin! Kliff! It's you!” Her mouth falls open in delight as she recognizes her friends.

“Faye!” The glad shout is returned, and then she's all but mobbed by them coming up to her, wrapping her in warm embraces that she gladly returns.

“Get some blankets up here! And warm drinks, too! They've been in that vault for who-knows how long!” She hears Alm giving orders, and she notes how naturally he seems to have fallen into the position.

“You've been in the vault? And with Celica?” She sees Gray raising an eyebrow as he steps back and properly notes her torn, scuffed clothing and the dried bloodstains all along her body. “What in the Mother's name happened to the two of you, Faye?”

She opens her mouth before realizing she has no idea where to even begin the telling of the story, and she shakes her head and gives a bark of laughter.

“It's a long story,” is all she says instead.

“Yeah?” Gray pauses a moment, gazing at her with eyes that seem both brighter and older than she remembers. And then he nods once.

“You look like you've been doing well.”

And Faye barely reins in the laugh again as she remembers the last few months of struggles and studies and tedium and terror. Instead, she nods once.

“So do you.”

And it's the truth. All of them do. She can see marks and scratches on his arms that weren't there before, as well as a scar travelling up Tobin's forearm towards his shoulder, but they're all healthy, and safe, and _here_. For a moment, Faye feels so full she might burst.

“Oh, is this one of your friends, Gray? You simply _must_ introduce me later!” A blonde woman steps up from the shadows, resting a hand on Gray's shoulder and offering Faye a welcome smile.

“Fascinating. The traces are faint, but you bear definite signs of your spirit having been touched by the Earth Mother! Might I inquire-”

“LU! Can't you tell she's exhausted? Stop staring at her like she's some caged animal!”

“Here,” a gentle voice sounds behind her and she turns in time to see a woman, dressed in the robes of the Mila Faithful, laying a thick blanket on her shoulders, “this should help.”

“It does. Thanks.” She manages a grateful nod before she remembers that it's no time to rest and she turns to Alm, who's busy discussing something with Celica.

“Celica, Alm.” She steps close to them. “We need to find the rest of our friends. Jedah teleported them somewhere, and we don't know where.”

“You think they might have ended in these tunnels?” Celica glances down one of the dark hallways.

“I don't know. It's possible, but-”

“Jedah didn't mention _where_ he'd sent them,” and Celica now has a frown on her face, “I... led all of them straight into danger and I don't even know where they are now.”

“Well, we've covered most of the tunnels on our way down here,” Alm offers as he produces a map. “We haven't seen anyone that we'd consider likely to be part of your group, Celica. So...”

“But if you were all at Duma Tower before this, then it's likely they were sent here, regardless. It's a convenient location to keep meddlers out of your hair without any of the Rigelian army stumbling on them by accident.” A new voice sounds from behind her, and Faye whirls around to see-

“Uncle!”

Sir Mycen stands before her, and though Faye had seen him a thousand times before, he now seems larger than life. Clad in his war armour, a great spear slung across one arm, and with a determined glint in his eyes, Faye can suddenly see him as the war hero he is hailed as across all Zofia.

The moment passes, and he smiles at her – the same fatherly, understanding smile he had given her so often back in Ram, and once again he is her uncle, the one who had taught her and guided her over so many years.

“Faye. It does my heart good to see you safe, girl. And Celica, too.”

“Grandfather! You're here as well?” Celica looks up, and she gives a smile of relief.

“Of course I am. This was Rudolf's last wish. I have a duty to see it realized.” Then his brow grows furrowed, and he looks over at Celica. “Celica. I know you have your reservations about all this, but...”

It's all right,” Celica takes a deep breath and nods, “I know what needs to be done, Grandfather. This is... for Duma's sake, too.”

“I see. Then, I won't say anything more. This is your battle now. And it'll be your hands that build the new world that is to come.”

Faye looks up and Uncle, and wonders if she should speak to him. All those years in Ram, he had raised Alm, keeping his ancestry a secret and never letting it be known that he was a prince.

What else had he kept from Faye?

What else had he lied about?

She closes her eyes and lets out a quiet sigh. There'll be time enough to ponder it later, she supposes. She can see Alm walking forward, telling them to be prepared to keep marching, and she knows.

The final battle lies just ahead.

(X)

A set of massive doors had stood in their way, but apparently the Turnwheels that Celica and Alm bore had been instrumental in letting them open it. And now they travel through the innermost depths of the Temple.

“We're close.” Uncle Mycen's voice comes from her right. Faye tightens the grip on her staff, and wonders how he knows.

Suddenly, there's a commotion up ahead, and Faye thinks she hears Celica's name being called. Her pace quickens, and she hurriedly pushes her way to the front, where she sees-

“Celica!” Mae jumps forward, all but tackling Celica in a hug. And behind her, she sees Saber, Boey, Conrad, Valbar. All wounded, all bloody, but still on their feet, still clutching their weapons. Her eyes scan the crowd, even as she clutches her staff, wondering if perhaps-

“Faye!” The cry is loud and suddenly there are arms wrapped tightly around her as Genny leans into her chest, her body shaking with suddenly released tension.

“Th – thank the Mother...” She can hear the relief in Genny's voice, mixing with her sobs. “Thank the Mother you're safe. If you'd – I – I couldn't have lost you too. Not you too.”

Faye returns the hug, even as she feels the pang in her heart as Genny offers thanks a god who is no longer with them. But it was true that it was her power that had cured Faye, and so perhaps Genny is right to thank her after all.

“That's right,” she says, her voice soft, and one hand reaches up to stroke Genny's hair. “I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Genny pulls away, rubbing at her eyes, and offers a tear-stained smile.

“Faye!” Another voice cuts through the hubbub, and she lifts her head in time to see Catria walking up to her. And at her side-

“Flora!” Faye gasps. “You're safe!”

“Safe and _very_ upset with being dragged around these tunnels.” Catria shakes her head and laughs as she hands Flora's reins back to Faye. “Still, she should feel better now that you're here.”

And Catria is right on the mark, as Flora tosses her head and gives a whinny that Faye has come to realize means she's happy. She smiles and runs her hand along Flora's neck in a comforting gesture.

“Whoa! Is that a pegasus?” Tobin's voice comes, and Faye sees him walking up. She tugs on Flora's reins, a reminder for Flora not to get aggressive on the stranger, and nods once.

“Looks like your own adventure was even wilder than I thought,” Gray quips as he walks over. “I _really_ have to introduce you to Clair now. But, where did you even get one of these?”

“Long story,” she smirks as she makes her reply, and she sees Gray give a resigned chuckle. But just then, she turns and sees Celica standing in front of Mae and Boey, her head bowed.

Curiosity draws her closer to Celica, and she steps close enough to hear the tail end of her words.

“... and I didn't tell any of you about it. I – I was selfish, and if things had gone just a bit worse, everyone could have died. So, I'm...”

“Okay, no.” Mae speaks over Celica's words and reaches over to grab her hands, cutting her off midspeech. “Listen, we made it out _fine._ We're okay, and you're okay, and that's the end of that! All right?”

“Mae is right,” Boey nods and moves to back her up, “No one's blaming you for anything, Lady Celica. We're just glad you're okay. I tell you, my heart nearly stopped when I realized that man was warping us away from you! I thought you really were going to end up selling your soul to Duma, and we couldn't do anything about it!”

“I would have.” Celica's face is still downcast as she takes a deep breath. “If I were alone, I'd have gone along with his plan without ever really questioning it.”

But then she raises her head and looks behind her – at Faye. And Celica smiles at her.

“But I _wasn't_ alone.” She gives another nod, this one more determined resolute. “Faye was there with me. And she saved me... in more ways than one.”

And all at once Faye finds herself the centre of everyone's attention, being given looks that alternate between surprised curiosity and warm pride. And she can feel her neck and cheeks suddenly getting hot.

“Well look at you!” Leon laughs as he comes up to her. “I look away one minute and suddenly you become the MVP! When did that happen?”

“Oh, yeah!” And Genny's voice from beside her, as well. “Your Rescue spell! You brought Celica away from Jedah, didn't you? What happened after that?”

The weight of their unspoken yet eager questions presses down on her suddenly, and flustered by the sudden attention, Faye does the only thing she can.

She coughs, and tries hastily to change the subject.

“Come on, you guys.” She says as she raises her staff. “I don't know what you've been through, but you all look a mess. Let's get you all healed.”

As soothing light pours from her staff, and Faye sees the cuts and bruises across Genny's arms begin to fade, she can't help the sudden feeling that, with everyone back together, and everyone _safe_ -

Everything would turn out okay. Everything would definitely be okay.

(X)

They emerge into what must be the central chamber of Duma's Temple. The room is vast – so large that Faye has to strain her eyes just to make out the far end of the room.

And what she sees her nearly makes her stagger from shock.

The form is vast. Snakelike, it lies curled up in itself. Even so, it's size is staggering. As she watches, it shifts, uncurling ever so slightly. Even at this distance, she can feel the sheer power exuding from the being that rests upon the altar of the far end.

It exhales, and Faye feels rather than hears it. Raw, pulsing strength, carried by a terrible will that fills the room simply by its passive presence.

There is no doubt that the being she sees at the far end of the room is the God of Power. Duma, Rigel's patron deity.

And yet.

She had pondered the idea of Duma before, more than once. Even after knowing that he was going mad, she'd wondered more than once what he was like.

But she had never thought that upon seeing him, the first word to come to mind would be 'ghastly'.

His flesh is scarred and torn all over, and in certain places looks almost as if it's rotted away. One massive wing unfolds slowly, and she can see bone poking through in some places, with the great leathery flap rent with holes all over, like a broken sail. Duma stirs, lifts his head, and Faye suddenly realizes that his eyes aren't closed – they're _missing,_ empty sockets where his eyes should have been _._ And all across his skin is a strange clear sludge, seeming to writhe and squirm as if it was a living thing itself.

She'd expected to feel frightened. Cowed by the majesty of standing before a god drunk with power. Or anger, perhaps, at the insane one who had ruined so much of Rigel and come within a hair's breadth of destroying Celica and her friends too. Or maybe even a righteous belief in herself and her friends, the conviction that putting him to rest was truly the right thing for all.

Never for a moment had she expected to feel _pity_ for the massive, wretched being that towers above her, writhing in such obvious pain.

She continues to stare with a sort of detached shock at the fallen god.

And so she notices a figure hunched in the centre of the chamber, standing and glaring at them with eyes of venomous rage.

“Jedah!”

The high priest of the Duma Faithful is in a terrible state. His robes are torn and charred black, and she can see burns all across his exposed flesh. He leans forward heavily, obviously finding it a struggle to even stand. For a moment, the thought enters Faye's mind, that he truly does resemble his god now.

But still he stands before them, lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes ablaze with a venomous hate.

“So you've come. Rudolf's worthless spawn and Mila's mewling priestess! You would dare raise your weapons against Duma?”

“Jedah, stand down.” Celica walks forward, and Faye can see no anger in her eyes, only a quiet determination. “Duma has gone insane. He brings only suffering to his followers and Rigel now. And... there's no way to bring him back. As much as it pains you, surely you can see this.”

“Ignorant fool! You know nothing! If suffering is the gods' will, then so be it! We _depend_ upon them, for life itself! Do you truly think humans can make their own way, without the help of the gods?”

“We can.” Alm's proclamation is loud, as much as to the assembled group of warriors behind him as to Jedah. “And we will. We're here today to prove it.”

“Duma has always insisted that man grow strong.” Celica's voice is softer, but also rings with a newfound conviction. “What purpose is there in that, if not to prepare them for the day they would stand on their own?”

“Presumptuous fools!” Jedah's snarl grows even wider, and now he looks almost like a starved beast, or some other inhuman creature. “I won't allow it! I won't allow any one of you to harm Lord Duma!”

“Jedah... that's enough.” Celica lets out her breath in a weary sigh. “You can barely stand. There's no way you could hope to stop us as you are now.”

“Not by myself, no.” And Faye sees Jedah spreading his hands. “To me, my Faithful! Heed the call of your War Father, and defend him now, in this darkest hour!”

And they appear all around them, as if rising from the shadows themselves. The Duma Faithful, bringing swords and spells to bear. And with screeches and howls, Terrors rise from the darkness, moving into position, ready for battle.

The army instantly snaps to readiness, bringing all their weapons up to defend themselves against those who stand against them, eyes glancing around in readiness for when first blow falls.

But Faye keeps her eyes on Jedah. Perhaps she was just more wary of him, after he'd tried to trick Celica. And that's why she sees him turn, stumbling and staggering in the direction of Duma's Altar. As he nears, he raises his arms.

“O, Lord Duma! My Lord, Duma!”

And in response, a low rumbling voice that seems to come from everywhere at once, a sound that sends rattles through Faye's bones.

_**ONLY POWER HOLDS MEANING. ONLY STRENGTH HOLDS SWAY.** _

“Yes, Lord Duma! And yet... my body grows frail. I no longer have the strength to defend you!”

_**THEN, CALL TO ME. CALL UPON POWER ITSELF!** _

“I do! My lord...” A brief instant, a pause so short it's barely there. And then, “Feast upon me! Take my meagre soul and use it to bolster your unparalleled might! And with it, smite these worms who would dare stand against you!”

“Jedah, _NO_!” She can hear Celica's horrified cry, but there's no time to react as-

Duma's head darts down, the muscles in his long, snakelike neck contracting with astonishing speed. His fanged maw opens horribly wide, wider than Faye would have believed possible. A crunching noise, one that seems to echo through the entire cavern.

And all that remains of Jedah, head priest of the Duma Faithful, is a spray of dark blood on the chamber floor.

Faye has the barest of moments to feel appalled, and for her stomach to churn. All around them, the remaining members of the Duma Faithful begin their charge, and as Duma raises his head and lets out an earsplitting roar of challenge-

The last battle begins.

(X)

As fighters rage and clash all around her, Faye ducks and scurries and weaves, trying to keep Celica and Alm in her sight as she scrambles forward.

She had seen the two of them charging forward even as the battle began, and it's not difficult to discern their motives.

Duma still looms ahead. Bring him down, and the battle, the entire war, comes to an end.

But the Duma Faithful press in all around, and they fight with a ferocity borne of desperation. They will defend their god, to the death if need be.

So even as she moves forward, tries to keep pace with Alm and Celica, she keeps her senses alert, trying to discern if there's anyone in need of help or healing.

And so she can tell when Genny's aura suddenly flares with crackling power, and instantly she's scrambling to her friend's side.

“Genny!”

She's stumbling backwards, leaning heavily on her staff. As Faye nears, she can see her left palm is smoking and the flesh is singed. Most likely she had instinctively tried to block an enemy's spell with her hand after her own had been overpowered.

Faye's own staff is raised and healing light is pouring forth almost before she realizes it. Genny raises her head and gives her a grateful nod before her head whips back to stare at the approaching foe.

Faye raises her own head as well, and her eyes widen for a moment before narrowing.

_A witch..._

But even though her skin is the same unearthly blue as the others, and though her eyes shine with an eerie pinprick of light like all the witches do, there's something about this particular one that seems... familiar.

“Oh, another one?” The witch raises an eyebrow, and she spreads her hands as she approaches. “I see... this must be Lord Duma granting me his blessings today. You're the ones, aren't you?”

“What?” Faye holds her staff up, keeping herself ready for anything the witch might try. All the while her senses scream at her of an emptiness where her opponent's heart should be. “What are you talking about?”

She's unusually chatty for a witch, Faye has to admit. Beside her, Genny has recovered as well, and is likewise holding her staff at a ready position.

“Oh, you mean you don't remember?” The witch's smile widens. “You're the ones who killed my dear sister. Does the name 'Sonya' ring a bell?”

Time seems to grind to a halt, and Faye simply stares at the witch in front of her, feeling as if she's been paralysed.

“What?” is all she manages, after a long moment.

“Oh yes, my father told me all about it. How you ambushed her and cut her down without giving her a chance to defend herself...” The witch pauses and laughs once, the sound sending a creeping chill up Faye's spine. “You know, it's funny. Revenge is beneath the Faithful. If Sonya did perish, it was her own fault, for being weak. And yet, somehow,” and suddenly, all trace of mirth is gone from the witch's face, now an expressionless mask staring at Faye and Genny with dead eyes, “I want to kill the both of you, so very, very much.”

A blast of purple light comes at her out of nowhere, and Faye barely manages to release her own counterspell in time. The force of it still sends her staggering backwards, and as Faye falls back, she sees the light of another spell glowing in the witch's hands.

“Do you think you'll see Sonya on the other side?” The witch muses before she dismisses the question with a shrug. “Well, if you do, tell her it was Hestia who sent you to meet her. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.”

 _You're wrong! We didn't-!_ The words don't leave her lips as she struggles to counter Hestia's next spell. Whatever she was told... well, talking to a witch probably wouldn't work.

Another bolt of energy, and Faye feels her knees buckling under the torrent of magic. She can barely keep it at bay with her strength, and not for much longer.

“Faye!” And now Genny is at her side, her own staff raised to give her support. Together, they are able to nullify the spell, and it fades away into the air, leaving the three of them gasping for breath.

“Little worms...” This time Hestia is no longer smiling. “Very well. Stay together. It'll make killing the both of you that much easier.”

Again energy gathers in her hands. But this time, Faye is prepared. She shares a look with Genny, who nods back, her eyes shining with determination.

“Accursed lightning that roars in the depths, descend now as a storm of my wrath! **AURA**!” Hestia brings her hands together, and the world around them shines with an eldritch light, the precursor to the full power of the spell.

_We can do this. Together, we can do this._

Both their staffs are raised, and as one, they begin to shine with silver light.

_O holy Mother, let your blessed light shine! May it illuminate the true path before us!_

“ **SERAPHIM!”**

Light blazes from both of their staves, crashing against the Aura spell and tearing straight through it. Hestia is sent flying.

She falls to the ground, and does not get up again.

“Great! Now we should...” Faye hurries over, one hand reaching for her knife.

_Finish her off._

That made sense, didn't it?

She was their enemy.

And yet, looking down at the crumpled form in front of her, Faye can't help but remember.

“ _Marla... Hestia... I'm sorry...”_

She pauses, before turning back and sharing a look with Genny. And somehow, she knows they understand each other.

A nod to each other, and the two of them turn, charging back into the fray. Behind them, Hestia lies unmoving on the cold earth.

(X)

She's getting closer now. Amidst the press of bodies and the struggles all around her, she can see Duma glaring down, and fighting an unseen foe. She can't tell if it's Alm or Celica, not at this distance, but – who else could it be?

And so she continues to struggle, trying to make her way to the altar.

And then, a cry of pain.

It's one of many. All around her are the wounded.

And yet-

That voice.

In an instant, she's broken off her dash for the altar, heading straight for the source of the cry.

She sees Saber and Gray fighting together, pushing back a pack of Terrors, but she dashes past them, angling to get a good look at-

“Leon!”

He's leaning heavily against a chunk of rubble, face pale and breaths coming in short gasps. And her gaze is quickly arrested by the massive wound in his left leg. It's almost as if some beast had simply bit down and taken a large chunk out of it.

“It's... all right,” he manages a pained smile even as he struggles to prop himself up on an elbow. “Not... as bad... as it looks.”

“Don't be stupid! You-!” Faye breaks off and quickly devotes all her attention to healing him. Holy light shines down on Leon's wound, and she can see the ragged edges beginning to close.

No, it's not enough. Leon's bleeding out faster than she'll be able to seal the gash. As things are, he'll die before she can heal him.

She's not... not strong enough.

_No._

It can't end like this.

She needs to be able to do more.

_Focus._

She digs deep inside herself, drawing out every last drop of magic she can muster at once. The jewel in her staff glows even brighter, and she can feel the magic draining from her body, leaving a fiery ache in all her muscles and a churning in her belly.

_Are you going to cripple yourself again? So soon after you nearly died, rescuing Celica?_

The question flits in her mind, even as her head begins to pound, and she strains, trying to maintain her focus, trying to squeeze out just that little bit more to heal Leon faster.

_If that's what it takes._

_I don't want to lose anyone._

_So if I my strength can make any difference, any at all-_

Finally, the pressure grows too great and Faye shudders, the staff falling from her weakened grasp. Her entire body now feels stiff and unresponsive, the consequence of using too much magic at once, and she struggles to keep herself upright, and on her knees.

But-

Leon's breathing has evened out. And it may be a trick of the light, but some colour seems to have returned to his cheeks. Faye lets out a gasp, partly of relief, partly because she needs to force more air into her lungs.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpens, and at the same time Faye hears the tramp of a heavy boot behind her. She raises her head as she twists – it's all she can manage.

The soldier has a heavy blade raised, and Faye knows that she will never be able to dodge in time. He's too close, even if all her movements weren't slow and jerky. There's no way for her to evade.

Suddenly as if by magic, a knife appears in the enemy's shoulder and he staggers. Faye's eyes widen.

_Leon! Did he-?_

But there's no time to think, and she now has an opening. She raises her hands.

“Nosferatu!”

As energy is leeched from the man, who crumples to the floor, Faye feels some of her strength return. Once she assesses that the threat is passed, she turns back to face Leon.

“Thanks,” she says, with a small nod of her head.

“You saved me too,” is all he says in reply. After a moment though, he shakes his head. “And half-killed yourself in the process, it looks like.”

That's true enough, but she can't stop now. Alm and Celica are still at the front lines-

“ _Leon!_ ”

She hears Valbar's bellow, and sees him charging up to the two of them. Satisfied that Leon won't be left unprotected as he recovers, Faye turns and continues her dash for the altar.

Duma lies ahead.

(X)

Even though she had been fighting her way to it for so long, emerging from the press of bodies and realizing that she was standing just before the altar comes as a shock to her.

But her attention is immediately taken by the scene that lies before her, of Duma looming over Alm and Celica both. A single massive eye is embedded in his forehead, shining with a bloody light as he stares down at the ones who had come to challenge him. He breathes out, a rumbling sound that sets Faye's teeth on edge.

She shifts her gaze lower – Celica is kneeling on the ground, one hand wrapped protectively around the shoulder of her other arm as blood flows from the wound. Alm still stands – and now he is the one wielding Falchion in Celica's place, but she can see a wound on his abdomen, slowing his movements. And he's forced to divert his attention even as he fights, trying to make sure Celica isn't hurt any further.

“Celica! Alm!” And Faye is rushing over to them, but even as she moves she can feel the fatigue of her recent exploits crashing down on her – the spells she had expended on her way here had taxed her more than she realized.

Her first healing spell is targeted at Celica. Celica gives her a grateful look as she struggles to her feet, rejuvenated. Faye manages a smile, even as she feels her lungs burn. She turns to face Alm, almost stumbling as she does-

_**SPIRITS OF THE EARTH, RAGE! AND HEED MY CALL!** _

The earth around them cracks and shudders, and Faye is nearly thrown off her feet. She can vaguely see that it's only their army that has been affected by the sudden quake, and that the Duma Faithful are taking this chance to press the attack.

 _No._ Faye grits her teeth and turns her attention back to the front. Alm and Celica. They're the key. They're the ones who can slay Duma with the Falchion.

They're the ones she needs to be supporting.

Celica is there as well, picking her way nimbly through the rubble created by Duma's spell. Her hands shine with verdant light as she kneels by Alm's side, healing him of his own wounds.

They're both exhausted. Of course they are. Seeking to challenge and slay a god is something Faye would scarcely have thought possible. And she can see the wounds that cover Duma's body, even as he lowers his head, preparing for another attack of some kind. The fight has taken almost everything out of all the combatants.

A moment later, she's at their side.

She's not a legend.

She's not a hero, or a royal, or a blood descendant of the dragons.

She can't carry out the task of slaying Duma.

But.

She can help others to fulfil it.

And that's enough.

One more spell. She has enough in her for one more spell.

And that's enough.

She places one hand of each of their shoulders. They glance back at her, and she offers them a comforting smile.

She has a brief moment to wonder about the effects of splitting the spell between both Alm and Celica. But... they're both almost there already. They just need that one, final push.

“ANEW!”

Power surges in her body and flows from her hands into Alm and Celica. The very last of the strength she has to give.

She falls to her knees, fighting to draw breath into her lungs.

But she can see Alm and Celica standing, eyes shining with renewed determination.

The Falchion is now gripped in Alm's hands. As she watches, Celica stands beside him, and reaches to grasp the sword as well.

“Alm!”

“Let's go! Together!”

As one, the two of them charge forward.

And with a wild, desperate cry, they reach forward together, grasping Falchion as one and plunging the shining blade deep into pulsing eye in the middle of Duma's head.

The terrible sound of a dragon's scream tears through Faye's ears, and she jerks away almost on instinct. She can see Celica, grasping the blade, sending more magic, more power through it, deepening the killing blow. Duma shudders, a sudden jerking motion, and stumbles back.

Faye's eyes widen. Had they-?

One clawed hand rises up, and slams down.

She barely has time to register Alm being thrown through the air like a rag doll. He hits the ground hard, rolls once, and does not rise again.

And amidst the clouds of choking dust thrown up by Duma's attack, she can see Celica also lying on the broken earth, her face screwed up in pain. She's struggling to move, to stand, but her body has no more in it to give.

No. _NO!_

She stands, her movements stiff and mechanical as she forces her own tortured limbs into action. She stumbles towards them, gripping her staff reflexively even as she does so. There has to be something she can do. Something...

But then, from above, a deep growl. And Faye turns to see Duma staring down at Celica, a light shining in his wounded eye.

He can barely move. Faye can tell that Duma is already on the verge of death.

But a dying Duma is still more than enough to kill both Alm and Celica. They both can no longer defend themselves.

Around her, cries of alarm as others notice that Alm has been brought down. Arrows, spears and spells are hurled at Duma in a desperate attempt to stop him. He ignores them all. Nothing save the Falchion is capable of piercing a dragon's skin.

Nothing...

_No time. There's no time. What can I do?_

_Protect Celica?_

_How?_

She stands, a village girl, the only thing between Duma and Celica's broken body.

He could crush her like a gnat, without even trying.

And as she looks up at him, she remembers.

“ _Only that which comes from a dragon can slay a dragon.”_

“ _We knew this too, and we had even made our own preparations to that end.”_

And a wild, desperate gamble forms in her mind.

“ _These are the First Magics, granted to us as gifts by both Duma and Mila.”_

“ _If you would seek succour, then seize it with your might and with your own hands.”_

A deep breath.

Faye raises her hands.

She can sense the energy gathering in Duma's eye, to be released in a ray of brilliant light that could vaporize Faye and Celica on the spot.

But-

Energy gathers in her palms too.

One more deep breath. And she opens her mouth.

“ _ **NOSFERATU!**_ ”

The burst of light that comes from her palms seems painfully, pathetically small. A tiny flickering mote of brightness that flashes out, disappearing into the churning ochre slime of Duma's skin.

And yet.

As the spell strikes home, Duma shudders, once.

And the light in his great eye begins to dim.

A tingling feeling starts in her fingertips, and Faye barely realizes, even as she sinks to her knees, that it's energy flowing into her.

The energy... she had drained from Duma, the God of Power.

All of a sudden, despite the battle that still rages, despite the shouts and cries, everything seems to have gone still and silent.

The single eye in Duma's forehead blinks once. Slowly, ponderously.

_**WHEN DID MANKIND... GAIN... SUCH POWER?** _

The question is asked in a puzzled tone. As if someone old and wizened had just remembered a scrap of information from long ago, and was wondering what to do with it.

And then, as if in slow motion, Duma collapses, crumpling to the cold floor of the temple hall with a sound of rumbling thunder.

And he lies still.

* * *

**Chapter End**

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry about taking so long to update this!

It was a deliberate choice that outside of flashbacks and her memory of Ram, Faye would not actually see Alm again until the very end of the journey. The Alm she remembers, and the Alm that appears at the very end of the journey are very different people, and I wanted to emphasize that. (And on the other hand, the Faye who left Ram Village alongside Celica is also very different from the Faye who now stands at Celica's side.)

This chapter ended up being very crowded in terms of people Faye interacts with, because well, she's functionally reuniting with both factions at once. And the nature of the plot means she doesn't really have time to process the full weight of the reunion. I wish I could have expanded on it a bit more, but oh well. Too, it's a lot more busy of a chapter, but hey, it's the final battle! Everything's gonna be a bit chaotic.

And yes. All that lore about the spells I made when back in chapter 2, was to justify the gameplay mechanic of why Nosferatu can be used to kill Duma. It's canon now, no point arguing about it. All hail Faye the Dragonslayer!

Thank you very much for reading! As always, comments and criticisms are very much appreciated!


	14. When Faye Found Her Place In The World

A Road Less Travelled

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The aftermath of the fight is a blur. All at once the sheer weight of her exhaustion bludgeons her like a mace and she all but collapses. She remembers strong arms bearing her up and carrying her out of the maze of tunnels. Nothing much after that.

For a while, she rests. Her dreams are hazy, and in them she hears the roar of fire, the ringing of steel against steel, and screams and cries of pain. More than once she blinks, waking just long enough to realize that she's safe, in a warm, soft bed, before sleep claims her again.

And later, when she's finally awake and lucid, she hears that people have been talking about her. Her supposed feat of being the one to lay Duma to rest.

The denial is out of her mouth before she can even think about it.

“ _I_ didn't slay Duma, okay? Alm and Celica were the ones who did it. Give them the credit. Not me.”

Her friends give her odd looks when she says this.

“What are you talking about? I may not know much about magic but I can at least tell when someone's casting something. And it was your spell that took him down! I was there! I saw it with my own two eyes.” Gray is the most animated about it. It's only later she learns that he's been going around the rest of the Deliverance, proudly talking her up as the village girl who slew Duma.

Some part of her wants to smile at that. The rest of her chooses to frown in response.

“Alm and Celica did all the actual work. I just stepped in at the end. Or are you going to say I built Ram Village because I helped Uncle set up the fence for his sheep pen?”

“Er, no, I guess not.” She sees Tobin trading a quick glance with Gray before he speaks. “But, well, you still got the last hit on him, didn't you?”

It's not like she can say otherwise to refute his logic, and she knows that by now word will have spread through the Deliverance armies of what had happened. Everyone is going to have heard of how she killed Duma.

And she can't quite put into words why that thought makes her stomach lurch.

But before she can say anything else, there comes shouts from behind her, and she sees people running over, calling them to come on down.

The war is over.

And the celebrations have begun.

(X)

Faye takes a drink from whatever it is in her cup as she hovers on the edge of the ongoing party, letting her gaze sweep the crowd.

She's not quite sure what she should be doing here. She can see people with their heads bowed, drinking and talking animatedly with each other – a few others who are starting to feel the effects of their drinks if their red faces and stumbling gaits are any indication.

She lowers her gaze to the dark red liquid of her cup and heaves a sigh. It's loud. Too loud.

She'd seen Alm a little earlier, but he had been beside Celica, the two of them clearly unable to tear their eyes away from each other. She had managed a crooked smile and turned away, to leave them to own devices.

It's then she spots another familiar face, likewise standing at the fringes of the celebrations, and she heads over.

“I guess loud parties aren't your thing either, huh?” she asks once she's near enough to be heard. It's slightly quieter out here. Good.

Catria's smile is tolerant as she leans her head to one side. “Well, the food and drink is usually better than what the rank and file get as rations, so sure, make use of the chance to fill your belly. Otherwise... yes, it's really more Est's thing. She's a regular social butterfly, that one.” A thoughtful nod. “Still, celebrations are always good for morale. Helps remind people there's a light at the end of the tunnel and all that.”

And this time, Faye laughs.

“What is it?”

“I guess you've been through your share of celebrations too, huh? After that war you told me about?”

“True enough. And wouldn't you know it, it ended with us killing a dragon too.” Catria's smile widens. “Congratulations on your feat, by the way. I didn't see it for myself, but Est described it to me. How you, and I quote, 'threw yourself between Duma and Celica, raising your shining staff aloft to strike him down with fury in your eyes.'”

“She's exaggerating. It wasn't anything like that.” And Faye finds herself frowning again.

Catria shifts her stance. “Sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't push.”

“It's all right.” Blowing out a breath of air, she decides to change the subject. “So! I guess... you'll be heading back to Macedon after all this?”

“Yes, I suppose we will.” Catria's gaze becomes distant. “We first came here to rescue Est and, well, we've succeeded. And we've finished helping Lady Celica with her own tasks as well. So... there's really nothing keeping us here any longer.”

“That's true...” she nods, trying to process the feeling that beats in her chest into words. “I guess you'll be happy to see home soon, huh?”

“Indeed.” A nod. “There are many beautiful sights across both continents, but nothing stirs the heart quite like the sight of your home. The vast plains under your feet, the endless forests under the bluest sky you could imagine.”

And as she speaks, Faye finds herslf imagining her own home, wondering what it looks like now after so long away, and she nods.

“I know what you mean. And... Macedon does sound like a lovely country.”

“Well, I admit I'm biased. But you know, if you ever want to visit Macedon and see it for yourself, the door of my home will always be open to you.” Catria smiles at her.

“Eh?” Faye blinks. The thought of visiting Catria had honestly never occurred to her at that point, and she finds herself pondering the journey across the vast sea. “I mean... I never really thought about it. Going across the sea, I mean.”

A small laugh. “Well, no one's saying you have to make that choice now. But the offer stands if you ever feel like it.”

And before either of them can say anything more, Est is suddenly there, gasping for breath.

“Catria! Catria! You gotta see this!”

Catria raises an eyebrow. “What's the matter, Est?”

“It's – one of the guys from Sir Alm's army! He's a Rigelian bigwig or something, but I swear, Catria, I _swear_ it's actually him! It's Camus!”

This is enough to get Catria to frown. Setting her drink down, to moves to follow Est, before turning back to wave at Faye.

Faye waves back as Catria and Est vanish into the crowds, and brings her cup to her lips as she continues her slow orbit around the area.

“There you are! I was starting to wonder if you'd snuck off without anyone noticing.”

She whirls, and her eyes widen. “Leon!”

“In the flesh.” He nods as he walks up to her, and Faye's gaze travels to the walking stick he now holds in his right hand.

“Your leg...” She trails off, unsure of how to continue.

“Hm? Oh, this.” He taps the ground once. “The healers they got to look over me told me it's a miracle I even survived losing that much blood. And I can believe it – honestly, I'm still feeling a little faint.”

A pause, and despite the revelry around them it somehow seems to have grown quiet all of a sudden. Leon lets out a long sigh, and the grip on the stick tightens.

“Also... they told me I'm going to need this thing to walk for the rest of my life.” Leon pauses, and turns his gaze upwards. “Guess my days as a soldier are over.”

And she's chewing at her lip again as she finds her own gaze rooted to the ground in between the two of them.

“I'm sorry,” she says after a moment, “if – if I had been stronger, I would have been able to heal you properly-”

“Don't be ridiculous.” He shakes his head and leans over to rest a hand on his shoulder. “If it weren't for you I'd already be dead. You _saved my life_ , Faye.”

“But... but I...” She's angry, she suddenly realizes, and she doesn't know why. “Won't this change everything? I mean, it's just – you can't fight anymore, just like that? Won't you lose your whole livelihood?”

“Yeah, that's true. It'll be a big change, that's for sure. But I've been through far worse, and I'll get through this too.” A pause, and then a laugh. “You know, way back before I enlisted, I always had it in my head that I'd be a merchant one day. Maybe I'll go back and try my hand at that.”

“Well... I could see that.” She's still not entirely happy with things as they stand, but if Leon seems contented enough, then who is she to judge?

“Yes, so like I said...” Leon leans over to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. You saved my life. And if what I heard is correct, you saved everyone. You were the one to bring down Duma, weren't you?”

She lets out a long sigh and shakes her head. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I just-”

She's cut off – the dull roar of chatter and laughter from the party seems to have swelled all of a sudden, and she turns-

And suddenly it seems like all the faces in the vicinity are aimed at her. She blinks and instinctively takes half a step back.

“That's her!” The shouts are loud and she can see fingers pointing in her direction. “She's the one who did it! She's the one who killed Duma!!”

“She's the dragonslayer!”

“All hail the godslayer!” One of the men thrusts his mug in the air, and it's immediately followed by a deafening roar that comes from the rest of the people in the vicinity.

“ **HAIL!** ”

Faye finds she has to compose herself not to wince as the thunderous wave of their cheering and clapping slams into her. All of a sudden she's the centre of attention, the focus of everyone's celebrations, and the weight of their stares is paralysing.

Surrounded by people singing her praises, Faye suddenly feels very much alone.

She risks a glance at Leon, and the expression on his face shows he knows she's uncomfortable right now. He gives a shrug and the hand on her shoulder squeezes once in a comforting gesture.

And it _is_ comforting. With Leon backing up, she manages a tentative smile in response to their praise, and that seems to make the cheers even louder.

The night flows on, and the people celebrate their victory, preparing themselves to face a future built by the hands of men.

(X)

At the end of it all is the journey back home.

Or at least the journey back towards Zofia. Faye knows that their final destination isn't Ram. It'll be Zofia Castle instead.

That's where they'll make it official, she supposes. There, Alm will be crowned king. Not of Zofia, nor Rigel. But a new, united One Kingdom of Valentia.

It's a momentous occasion, or at least she supposes it is. The joining of two kingdoms that had existed for centuries. Where two paths had been pursued, there would now be only one. A complete reversal of the status quo, a decision that will affect the entire continent.

She doubts the shockwaves of the change will ever spread as far as Ram.

There, too, will be where Alm and Celica will be wed. It only makes sense – what better way to symbolize the union of the two nations than by the union of the nation's royals?

Of course, they're both head over heels in love with each other too.

And as they continue making their way south, others begin to break away from the group. Conrad is the first to bid farewell, saying he needs to deliver news of what has transpired to Sage Halcyon, and that he'll return as soon as he is able. Two sibling magicians who had travelled with Alm say they need to return to their village to settle their affairs. Atlas waves goodbye before heading back to his mountain village, accompanied by Jesse.

All this helps contribute to her own decision, to leave as well.

She's almost finished with securing her luggage to Flora's side when Gray comes up to her, arms folded.

“So,” He begins.

“Hey there,” she returns the greeting with a small nod before she continues her work.

A silence falls upon the two of them, and Faye reflects that even now, at the end of their journey, after facing so many battles and dangers and trials-

They're all still terrible at saying goodbye.

A chuckle escapes her lips as she shakes her head, and that seems to ease the tension a little for everyone.

“So you've been to see the others already?”

“Yes, more or less.” There had been some raised eyebrows when she had announced her decision, but no one had really questioned it. They must have all known how homesick she is.

Celica had merely smiled, and drawn her into a warm embrace before wishing her safe travels – and that she hoped they would see each other again soon.

Another brief silence, before Gray runs a hand through his hair. “You sure you want to do this?”

She lifts her head to look at him, the same time she raises an eyebrow. “Well, of course! Why wouldn't I be?”

“It's just... I dunno. Going back, after everything? You sure that's all you want?” He shrugs his shoulders and spreads his arms. “I mean, come on! You're the Dragonslayer! The one who killed Duma! That's a ticket straight to the nobility if I've ever seen one. I bet you could just ask Alm and he'd give you your own castle!” He snaps his fingers. “Bam. Just like that.”

She lets out a derisive snort. “I don't _want_ my own castle. And I don't want to be 'the Dragonslayer' either. I just want to be Faye. Of Ram.” She adds in those last two words, almost as an afterthought.

Yet another silence. And then Gray heaves a long sigh.

“So... this is it, huh?” His expression is thoughtful as he stares at Flora, who is still waiting patiently. “I'll see you around, then.”

“Yeah...” She pauses as something else strikes her. “Will you be coming back to Ram? For a visit, I mean?”

She knows Gray and Tobin plan to sign up with the knights after this. From here on out, their paths will diverge. But... would their paths ever intersect again?

“Well... yeah,” he reaches up to rub the back of his head, “or at least that's the plan. Probably not any time soon though. Winning aside, the continent's still kind of a mess. The knights are going to be run ragged for a while, just keeping things from falling apart any more than they already have.”

And at this, Faye finds herself fighting down a flash of guilt. If there's still so much work to be done... is it really okay for her to ride off on her own?

She swallows hard and tries to dismiss it. She's done enough.

And she wants to go home.

She can be selfish, just this once. Can't she?

“And anyway,” Gray continues, breaking into her thoughts as he gestures at Flora, “you're the one with the magic flying horsey. It'd probably be way easier for you to come visit _us_ , wouldn't it?”

Faye reaches up to rub Flora's neck, and can't explain why she has to fight the urge to frown.

“I guess.”

Finally, her preparations are done. She mounts Flora and pauses, before turning to face Gray with a smile.

“Good bye, Gray.” A deep breath. “Look after Alm and Celica, okay? They're in way over their heads, you know.”

He chuckles and nods.

“See ya, Faye. Say hi to everyone in Ram for me, okay?”

A brief return nod in acknowledgement, and with a jerk of the reins, Flora takes off into the skies.

Soon, Gray shrinks into a tiny dot, far below them. And spreading out as far as she can see, is the vastness of Valentia.

(X)

Stories and fairy tales aside, a pegasus can no more fly across the continent than a horse could gallop straight across it.

So it's only weeks later, with frequent stops to rest and sleep, that Faye now approaches the outskirts of the village.

She supposes thoughts of her home should have been filling her mind, but right now she's distracted.

Over the past day, clouds have been gathering. Not the thin white strips she had seen in the skies so often, but grey, heavy ones that have come together to blot out the sun.

Almost without thinking, she guides Flora to fly closer to the ground, and she feels her heart beating faster. Could it really be...?

And just as Ram comes into view, it comes. A familiar sound, yet one she hasn't heard in years.

The rumble of thunder.

And as she brings Flora down to a gentle landing just outside the village gates, the heavens open, and sheets of water crash down all over the land.

In seconds, Faye is drenched.

Beside her, Flora makes an odd grumbling noise, clearly displeased at the downpour. But she can hear slamming doors and she can see people running out, arms outstretched and crying out in delight at rain, rain at long last, rain after so many years of dryness and dust.

She closes her eyes, lifts her face and feels the sting of raindrops pelting her nose and cheeks.

She's home.

(X)

For a while, it's almost as if nothing has changed.

Farmers work the fields. Children run and play in the village square. Life goes on, the same slow simple days of Ram.

But there are always reminders. Of what has been lost, and of what has been gained.

Suddenly, Faye is now the best healer in the village. Her magic thrums in response to need, and she can now easily repair the careless injuries sustained through a day of work, and to soothe those suffering from illness or maladies. One day, she helps to heal a boy who had broken a leg after trying to climb a tree. She gains a reputation for her talents, and from then on people bring to her their sick and hurting.

In fact, she gains a reputation regardless. Everyone has heard of stories and rumours of Alm, the boy from Ram who became a king. As part of his circle of friends, of those who had left the village (never mind that she hadn't actually travelled with Alm), people come to her, asking her about what had happened. The children crowd her as well, plying her for stories about the journey. Faye feels uneasy about letting them down, but she tells them nothing less than the truth – she didn't go with Alm, she barely knows any more about the situation than they do. Fewer remember Celica, the quiet girl who had come to the village and left again, but some do ask about her as well – they recall that lazy afternoon where she had returned to the village and departed with Faye at her side.

They seem surprised when she shakes her head and says she doesn't want to talk about it.

Still they talk about her, and many seem to look up to her merely for the feat of leaving the village, fighting in the war, and returning safe and sound.

The thought of it makes her sigh.

_So even in Ram I can't go back to just being 'Faye', huh?_

Other reminders crop up as well. Alm's house remains empty – Uncle had technically never given up ownership of the property, and no one feels right claiming or selling off the house that once belonged to the king. Faye spends her free time taking care of it, and what remains of Uncle's sheep.

Flora draws the curiosity of the village – at least at first. But she soon makes it clear she does not like crowds and though, at Faye's urging, she will suffer the children running hands along her wings, they quickly learn when she's not up for playtimes and she soon becomes regarded as a familiar sight in Ram.

Tobin's sisters come to tell her about how he is doing, happily waving the most recent of his letters for her to read. She smiles as she scans the page – they're so proud of their older brother who had left to make his way in the world, and even now continues working to support them as a knight. Once they finish singing his praises, their voices lower as they ask if she has any idea when Tobin plans to come back for a visit.

She has to admit that she does not know, but it's not likely to be any time soon. They can't quite hide the disappointment in their eyes.

Kliff does return, but the visit is short – and not a pleasant one. He gives her a brief greeting before squaring his shoulders and vanishing into his house.

A sudden outburst of raised voices that can be heard, even from the village square.

Kliff emerges, gives her a curt nod as he walks past – he does not slow his pace – and mounts the horse he had travelled here on. He leaves, and Faye can only shake her head.

Eventually the knights arrive, to deliver the news of the founding of the One Kingdom. Mila is gone, they tell the villagers. From now on, the fields will never again bear such plentiful harvests as before. But in place they bring knowledge from the north – of how to maximise crop yields, and of how to coax as much as they can from the stubborn earth.

Uncle comes with them.

He stops by his old house, and Faye pays him a visit. She brews him some tea and for a while they make small talk, both skirting around the real issue. Faye mentions that his sheep are doing well and after a chuckle and a shake of his head he officially gifts them to her and her family, and throws in his house for good measure.

“Sell the blasted thing and keep the money,” he tells her. “But make sure to let the poor fool who buys this place know the doors are worthless at keeping out drafts.”

She laughs, but all of a sudden it fades away into silence and she lets out a sigh.

Uncle's expression grows thoughtful as well.

“... I'm sorry.”

Faye doesn't respond for a moment. Instead she stares down at her drink and the wisps of steam rising from it, before she takes a deeo breath and places it on the table. “Are you, Uncle?” she finally asks. “Are you really? Because you were the one who taught me that saying 'sorry' without meaning it isn't saying sorry at all.”

“True enough.” Uncle heaves a sigh of his own. “Well, let me be a bit more clear. I'm not sorry for keeping Alm's heritage a secret. Rudolf entrusted Alm to me, and I would have told any lie needed to keep him safe – and for him to grow up a happy, healthy young lad.”

She remains silent.

“But I am sorry I wasn't able to tell you the truth.”

“... Not much of a difference.” She mutters as she reaches for her cup and takes a long drink from it.

“You think so?” His expression turns thoughtful as he nurses his own mug. “Well, maybe so. Maybe it's just what I tell myself to feel better about it.”

“And anyway, you know I'm not really the one who needs the apology.” She says after a long moment. “Alm killed his own father over your secrets, and don't you _dare_ tell me that the results or it being part of the Emperor's 'master plan' somehow makes it okay! Have you said sorry to _him_ yet?”

He sighs, and his nod is weary. “I won't deny it. I've hurt him, there's no way to avoid that. _We_ hurt him, Rudolf and I. Even if it was for the greater good...”

It's funny, she thinks. She can't remember the last time she's seen Uncle being so open and vulnerable about his own thoughts. Maybe the end of the war and an end to the lies had loosened him up somewhat.

“I do owe him an apology. But I thought that it might be better if I started with you. I thought it would be easier that way.”

“Alm isn't going to be anywhere near as harsh as I'd be to you, Uncle. He'd be _nice_ about it.”

“I know,” he folds his arms and sinks slightly back into his chair, “and that's the hard part.”

She sees him and his entourage off when they're ready to leave, waving as they head down the path and until they vanish into the woods.

Once alone, she turns back, and prepares to face the day ahead.

(X)

Weeks turn into months.

Months stretch into nearly a year.

Sometimes, Faye wonders if she is happy.

Ram is her home. It will always be.

And yet she finds herself staring at houses that had once held friends. She finds herself sitting alone in the village square at the end of long days of work.

She finds herself wondering why home no longer feels very much like home at all.

 _Has Ram changed that much since I was away?_ She ask s herself as she stares as the orange-pink sunsets. _Or was I the one to change?_

Well, that one is easy enough to answer. In the end, Ram had lost four kids, and one old man. Hardly very much, even for a small village.

But Faye has travelled and seen so much. Been through so much.

She isn't the same person who left one quiet evening, so long ago.

She doesn't like it. She doesn't like the thought of losing her home, still less so that it's because she is the one who has changed.

One thing that does change in Ram is the frequency of merchant visits. The roads become safer every day, the knights doing all they can to stamp out bandits and cutpurses, and so more and more are willing to brave the journey south to Ram. Their wine remains as famed as ever, after all.

And through them, the letters come.

Genny writes her, telling her enthusiastically about how Mae and Boey remain as inseparable as ever, and how Father Nomah has started training Boey in earnest, to become the new head of the priory in years to come. Her book, she also proclaims, is progressing nicely and needs only a few more touches until it's finally complete.

' _You should come visit the priory,_ _'_ Genny writes in her letters. _'We'd be delighted to have you.'_

Leon does too, proudly announcing that he's set up a nice shop right in the capital, and that business is booming. He tells of Valbar, how he's become an instructor in the royal army and is, naturally, beloved by all who study under him, and that he still pays regular visits to Leon.

 _'You should come down some time,'_ Leon tells her. _'Take in the sights. I could show you around.'_

Gray sends her letters too, partly to boast about how well he's doing in the One Kingdom's Brotherhood of Knights, partly to complain about how Clair is trying her damnedest to 'straighten him up', in her words. One entire paragraph is dedicated to the horrors of his attempts at learning cursive.

 _'Anyway, you feel like coming_ _over_ _one of these days?'_ He asks her. _'Can't quite make the trip down south yet. But we can hang out with Tobin and it'll be like old times!'_

 _Like old times._ She bites her lip as she folds the letter up neatly and places it in her drawer.

And then letters from the east that bear signs of having been splashed with water, with the ink running slightly. Catria writes to tell her of her homeland, about Queen Minerva trying to keep a squabbling court in line and of how her own training as a pegasus knight is going.

 _'I know I invited you to visit whenever you wanted,'_ the letter concludes. ' _But it might be best to wait a while. Archanea's situation is currently a little too volatile for my liking. Still, I'm looking forward to the day you can come see my homeland.'_

Faye replies to those letters, writing down how she's doing, and how Ram is doing. She remembers struggling with finding anything to say about herself in a letter once, not so very long ago. Still, it's easy enough to talk about Ram and how it fares – especially with the farmers having to relearn everything in a land that is no longer blessed.

She can't bring herself to commit to a visit to any of them – but she doesn't turn down the offers either. Whenever she contemplates it, worry gnaws at her mind.

_I've changed so much already. If I leave the village again... what will I be like when I return?_

Perhaps it really is safer, simply not to mention visits in he letters.

And then, nearly one day to the year of Duma's defeat, it arrives.

A knock sounds on her door and she hurries to open it. One look at the clothes of the man in front of her, and she knows that he's been sent from the palace.

“Faye of Ram?” he asks her. “Childhood friend of His Majesty, Alm the First?”

She has to fight back the snort at how he's turned being a friend into some sort of title.

_Oh well. It's better than being called 'Dragonslayer.'_

Once he receives confirmation that she's who he thinks she is, he hands an envelope to her. “I was ordered to deliver this to you personally.”

She turns the envelope over in her hand. It's a deep maroon in colour, with gold trim along the edge. She can see letters neatly embossed in gold leaf on one side, letting the bearer know it is addressed to Faye of Ram Village, and for a moment, she wonders if the envelope cost more to make than the dress she's wearing.

She knows without opening it that it's an invitation to the royal wedding.

Alm and Celica's wedding.

“Shall I wait for your reply?” He asks her after a moment.

She bites her lips, looking down at her name, written on the envelope.

“No,” she says, “it's fine.”

When the messenger has departed, Faye places the envelope neatly in the drawer where she keeps all her other letters.

And she returns to life in Ram.

(X)

Visits to Fleecer's Forest had become more common after she'd returned to Ram. It's safe enough now, and the undergrowth of the forest carries potent herbs that can be mixed into tonics and salves. Oftentimes she'll bring Flora with her for faster travel.

Shes on another such trip one day when she stumbles onto the old dirt path, and as she looks to the north, she can just see the shrine peeking through the leaves.

And she remembers. The journey. Her friends. Alm. Celica.

She shakes her head, trying to dispel the sudden rush of thoughts, and whistles for Flora.

She's scarcely touched down in the village square when her mother comes up to her, an odd expression on her face.

“You have a visitor,” she tells Faye, and then she will say no more of it.

Curious, she heads back to her room. She pushes open the door – only to see Celica sitting on the chair, chin resting on one hand as she looks out the window.

“Celica?”

She turns to look at her, and smiles.

“Hello, Faye. It's so good to see you well.”

“What – I mean, yes, it's nice to see you too, but what are you doing here?”

“I can't come to see an old friend?” Celica raises an eyebrow before stepping closing to her. But then her expression grows more solemn, and she folds her hands together in front of her.

“... You missed the wedding. I was – we were all hoping you would show.”

And Faye lowers her gaze and lets out a sigh. “I would have just dragged the mood down. I'm happy for you and Alm, I really am, but-” She breaks off and shakes her head. “Being there, seeing it in person, it'd have been...”

“I can understand that.” Celica closes her eyes and nods once. “We were prepared for the possibility you would say no. Still, we had hoped...”

“Hoped for what?”

And Celica does blink at that. “Faye... you didn't know? Did you read the invitation we sent you?”

“Well, er, no.” She winces. “I mean, I could tell it was for the wedding, so I thought there wasn't...”

And Celica laughs and raises one hand to her forehead. “Well, no time like the present. Do you happen to have saved the invitation itself?”

“Ah, yes! It's over here...” Hastily, she opens her drawer and brings the invitation out. Opening it, she unfolds the letter and and scans the contents.

Her eyes widen.

“The guest of honour?” Her voice is a squeak. “ _Me_?”

“I suppose it might seem odd, to honour someone else during a marriage ceremony for the new king and queen. But I – we wanted to take the chance to show you our gratitude. And to present this to you.”

She takes another step forward, and presses something into Faye's hands. She blinks and takes a look at it. It's a pendant – a medallion, really. Engraved on it is the symbol of the One Kingdom.

“This is the King's Trust. If you bear this seal, there is no door in the One Kingdom that will not open for you. We would be honoured if you would accept it, as a symbol of our thanks.”

Faye is silent. All at once, she finds that she can't find anything to say.

“Why?” She finally manages after a long moment. “This isn't... I don't deserve to be honoured over anyone else. Even if I did land the killing blow on Duma, it was just pure dumb luck! You don't need to-”

“No,” Celica cuts her off with a shake of her head. “This isn't about Duma, Faye. At least, not directly. It's...” Her shoulders slump, and she lets out a sigh. “You saved me, Faye.”

“What? Everyone saved everyone during that journey; I'm not special! You remember when Boey dived in front of that Bonewalker to save Mae or when Kamui fended off those Gargoyles while protecting Valbar-”

“Not those times. In the Vault.” Celica's gaze grows hooded. “You saved me... from making one of the worst mistakes I could have ever made.”

And Faye grows silent, too. The grip on the medallion tightens.

“You saved yourself,” she finally says. “I just told you how I really felt about the whole thing. You were the one to make the final decision, all on your own.”

“Perhaps. And yet, I could never have made that same decision if it weren't for you.” Celica pauses again, as if trying to decide whether to continue speaking. “I wanted to say thank you. And... if I can, I want to help you too.”

Faye blinks. “Help me?”

Celica sighs and looks to the ground.

“Gray's worried about you,” she says after a pause. “Leon, too. And Genny doesn't write to me much, but her last letter mentioned that she hoped you were doing okay. I think... they've seen something in the letters you sent them.”

“What – my letters? What did I say-?'

“I get the feeling it's less what you told them than it is what you _didn't_ say. Faye, I don't mean to pry... but is everything going well?”

Faye finds she can't give an answer.

And that, in its own way, is answer enough.

“I did wonder, myself.” Celica takes a deep breath. “I knew you dearly wanted to return to Ram... but I also knew you longed for our friends to return here too.”

“Well, they're not here.” She finds that her voice is more bitter than she'd expected it to be. “And it's not like I can do anything about that.”

There is no immediate reply. Instead, Celica steps closer, leaning so close their foreheads almost touch.

“And is that how it's going to be? You, living here, just wishing for the past?” Celica shakes her head once. “I don't want that for you.

“This is your world too, Faye.” Celica's voice is softer now, but no less empathetic for it as she reaches down, enfolding Faye's hands in her own. “You fought for it, as hard as anyone else. Please, don't just shut yourself away from it, after everything.”

Faye lets out her breath in a sigh and bites at her lip. She finds she can't quite look Celica in the eye, and so instead she keeps her gaze focused on the hands holding onto her own. The skin is pale and unblemished, a stark contrast to hers, with smears of dirt and callused knuckles.

“And what if I don't _want_ the world?” She says after a long moment. “What if I just want a quiet, ordinary, normal life?”

“There's no reason you can't have both.” Celica's smile is gentle. “Trust me, I know all about living in multiple worlds. I'm Queen Anthiese now... but I'm also Celica, of Ram and of Novis. I will always be. And... it may not be the _world_ you want, but your friends that dwell in it. That's reason enough not to cut it off.”

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“What then? I've already changed so much, Celica. Can I really... can I really go on, without losing Ram too?”

“We don't lose ourselves that way, Faye.” Celica's grip tightens. “We _grow_. Like a tree, whose branches spread wider and wider. If you're feeling lost, and I know you are, it's not because you've lost Ram. It's because you're turning your back on everything else.”

A silence.

And then, Faye snorts. “So, what, this medallion was meant to help encourage me to go see the world?”

And Celica laughs too. “Well, it's mostly intended for unfettered access to the royal castle. But why not?” And then a twinkle in her eye that holds a hint of mischief. “And besides, we still have to see to your reward. Whether or not you want the history books to record it as such, you _did_ lay Duma to rest. So, is there anything you want?”

Faye's gaze grows lidded as she ponders.

“I don't need anything,” she finally decides. “But give it to my parents. And Nan. Enough that they'll never want for anything again, as long as they live.”

(X)

“And I'm so happy you decided to come visit!” Genny's excited chatter comes from all over the room as she practically flies all across it, picking up papers, rearranging them, and setting it down again.

“Well, I figured if any occasion was special enough to warrant me coming over, it'd be this.” She hefts the thick sheathe of papers that had been sitting on the table in front of her. “Congratulations, Genny.”

“I just have to sign a couple of forms and then it'll be official!” Even standing still now, Genny's so excited she's practically bouncing on her heels. “My first book, published! Can you believe it, Faye? Of course, Celica putting in a good word really helped... oh gosh, what if Celica herself reads it? I hope she likes it! I mean, I kinda sorta based it on our adventure together...”

Faye smiles in response as she turns the manuscript over and idly flips open a couple of pages. And then her expression grows more thoughtful and contemplative instead.

There, inked neatly on the page, are two words, plain and unadorned.

 _To_ _Sonya._

After a moment, Faye looks up and realizes that Genny's gaze had dropped too, and her hands are now clasped at the small of her back.

“... I miss her, you know?” She says after a moment of silence.

“I know.” Faye nods once. “I do, too.”

_Would Sonya have enjoyed this new world, too? I'm sure she would have, but..._

She's interrupted by a clattering of metal from behind her. “Genny, are you present? Where do you want this tray?”

“Hm? Oh... the sidetable is fine!” Genny raises her voice, and Faye turns to see the newcomer.

Her eyes widen.

“Oh! A guest?” The woman tilts her head to one side. “Have we met? I don't think I've seen you before.”

“Er... you might not remember her,” Genny coughs, “but I'm pretty sure you've met. Faye. This is Hestia. Hestia... Faye.”

“Ah yes. The greeting. I had forgotten.” Hestia nods once, before performing an elaborate curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Faye.”

“Just... just Faye is fine.”

The late afternoon finds them walking along a hill that offers them an excellent view of Novis Greatport, and the ocean beyond. The sun is just starting to sink into the ocean, and the waves are painted in brilliant bursts of orange light.

“Novis really is a beautiful place,” Faye says, almost to herself. “Almost as peaceful as Ram.”

“Uh huh! It's really nice out here! They say it's good healing for the soul...” Genny trails off for a moment. “And I guess that's why I decided to bring Hestia back here with me.”

“You didn't mention her in any of your letters,” Faye points out as she settles herself down on the grass, feeling the softness under her legs and palms. “So I have to admit to being pretty surprised.”

“Yeah... Celica and Father Nomah told me it would probably be better if I didn't bring it up so much. Some people aren't comfortable with the idea of trying to rehabilitate Witches, you know?”

“Well, if I didn't know she was one, I don't think I'd be able to tell. Hey eyes are still a little shiny, I guess. But she's just really pale now instead of... uh, purple.”

“Yeah, I was a little worried about that at first. But I guess being out here in Novis instead of Rigel and in their temples really did help her a lot!”

They lapse into silence for a moment, until Faye takes a deep breath.

“So, this idea of rehabilitating Witches... did Sonya talk to you about it, too?”

Genny nods once. “She did. And... well, I'm not a great magician like she was. I don't know how to research new spells that could potentially solve the problem and just... restore her like that. But when I found out Hestia had survived the battle after all... I thought I had to at least try to do what I could.”

“Well, she seems... normal. Ish.” Faye shrugs.

“Her memory's still a wreck.” A sigh and a shake of her head. “She always remembers me... and Sonya and Marla, I guess. But everyone else is a coin toss. She doesn't remember anything about the battle we were in. And she's pretty spacey all the time, although I can't tell if it's because of being a Witch or if she was always like that.

“But... you know.” Genny smiles. “Recently she's started becoming interested in things. She likes colours and painting now. She'll do that on her own. Before she only responded when I gave her a task to do. I don't know if it's really an indication her soul is coming back or anything... but it's progress. I'm just glad for that.”

Faye laughs and nods. “Who would have guessed. Genny of Novis. Cleric. Novelist. Restorer of souls. I never took you for the type.”

Genny laughs too. “Well, I guess it's true, you know? You never really know what you can accomplish until you try!”

_You never know..._

Faye takes in a deep breath and stares out at the sunset. If anything, it's even more beautiful out here than the ones in Ram.

“Maybe you're right.” She says, and her voice is soft.

(X)

Ram is her home. It will always be.

But more and more she finds her gaze travelling further afield, as she seeks all the new Valentia can offer her.

She visits the market where Leon has set up shop, and spends the afternoons chatting with him, as he introduces her to all the people he's had a chance to meet in his new walk in life.

She drops in on Gray, and they discuss taking care of their steeds, the state of the kingdom, and how his relationship with Clair is going.

She attends Tobin's knighting, where Alm formally bestows him with a title and with land to build his estate on, and she cheers herself hoarse. Later on, she returns to Ram, to help his family pack up as they prepare to turn the page on a new chapter in their lives.

She visits the nascent Mercenary Kingdom founded by Jesse, and endures ribbing from the men there until Saber lets it slip she's the Dragonslayer the One Kingdom keeps talking about. Faye rolls her eyes, but it works and they leave her alone from then on.

She travels north, north, north to the Sage's Hamlet, just in time to catch Layna setting out with a group to begin the process of rebuilding her hometown.

“The supplies the king promised us just came in!” She grins, before her expression grows more serious. “I never did get the chance to say this before, but thanks. For Lord Duma and all.”

“Thanks?” she repeats. “Layna, I – I killed him. I thought you'd hate me for it.”

“He got to face his death head on, and to fight against it to the last. He'd never ask to go out any other way.” Layna's smile is warm. “And if the Sage has the right of it, killing him _is_ all that you could have done for him. So again, thanks.”

She leaves with a promise to visit Layna in her new home, and a lighter heart.

She flies like the wind itself to catch Kliff boarding a ship bound for Archanea one early morning, having disappeared without so much as a goodbye note. After dragging him off the ship and giving him an earful, she brings him back to the castle so they can give him a proper farewell party. Kliff folds his arms and acts grumpy at the celebrations, but Faye knows him well enough to see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

She finds her gaze turning eastwards as well, to the land that Catria calls her home, and she wonders what it would be like to see it for herself. Not just yet, perhaps. But soon.

She drops in on the mountain village where Atlas resides, and quite by coincidence runs into a cleric both from Novis and the Deliverance. At the end of an afternoon together, they are fast friends.

She travels the land, visiting old friends, making new ones, giving aid wherever her spells are needed. They are all a part of her now, and through them she is connected to the vastness of the world. Not in one huge wave; that would overwhelm her, overwhelm anyone. But person by person, heart by heart, she gives, and receives, and grows in turn.

(X)

She rests on the balcony of Zofia Castle, staring up at the sky. Stars twinkle above her, in a silent, eternal dance. On a wild impulse she wonders what it would be like to ride Flora soaring up, up, up until she too, is part of the endless harmony.

“Did you find it, Faye?” Celica asks as she comes up beside Faye, one hand holding up a plate of cookies. “What you were searching for?”

Faye nods her thanks as she accepts one from the queen – her dear friend. She chews thoughtfully for a moment, savouring the faint after-taste of summer berries, before she swallows.

“I don't know,” she finally admits as she casts her gaze off into the horizon. The country, the continent, the _world_ , stretches out before her, endless in its possibilities.

_So much to see, and to do, and to be..._

“I guess I'll just have to keep looking.”

And she does.

* * *

**Story End**

* * *

**Author Notes:** And that's that. The story is completed, almost one year to the day I first started it. It's certainly been a ride.

I wanted to write this particular chapter with the idea that Faye might have been starting to retreat back inside herself, especially if left to her own musings. She's grown a lot over the course of the story (or at least, I hope I communicated that well enough) but sometimes people can lack the epiphanies they need to make that one final step. But Celica is there for her in the end, because what better way to repay a friend for saving you from making a mistake than by returning the favour? And she helps to give Faye a healthier outlook on life.

Because of course, at the end of the day, I really like writing about Faye and Celica together.

Hope you enjoyed it!

* * *

 **Story Post-Mortem:** This is mostly going to be rambling about plans I had when setting up this story and whatnot, and whether or not they came to fruition, so if it's not your thing, feel free to skip any or all of this.

I think one of the central things I had in mind when starting this story was **Faye's relationships.** I really wanted to take the chance to explore how heading off with Celica's army would have changed the circumstances of Faye's development. In the game's A Support with Silque, Faye finally admits to feeling lonely and in need of a friend. I think it's important this conversation is gated behind Act 4, or Alm's entry into Rigel. By that time it should be apparent to her that Alm (and the other Ram kids) are growing more distant from her. Not through any malice on their part but simply because they're finding fulfilment in being given the chance to see the continent and finding new purposes in life, whereas Faye just wants the fighting to be done and to go home. So Faye, while naturally resistant to change and to new, unknown things, tries to strike up conversation with a new friend because she desperately needs a comforting shoulder to lean on.

In this story, that happens a lot earlier on, because aside from Celica, Faye doesn't have anyone familiar to rely on as a friend. I also included the conflict about Faye hiding her feelings about Alm, as a way to create some tension and distance between Faye and Celica early on. That way she can't really focus all her attention on Celica either, and would therefore tentatively start to make friends with others.

 **Leon's** friendship with Faye was one of things I wanted to really develop right from the outset. I said before that I think Leon provides the more positive spin on the trope of unrequited love, and part of it is he's been through his share of heartbreak and grew up enough to deal with it, whereas Faye is still younger, and just as significantly, has experienced far less. So yes, big brother Leon was a big guiding light in Faye's journey. I wanted the experience here to feel more natural so I decided to set it up so that they ran into each other a few times before really hitting it off, and making it so Leon would try to look out a bit for Faye so they'd have more of a rapport before they really start sharing their experiences and life lessons. Sometimes I wonder if I did make the relationship a bit one sided since it's mostly Leon guiding Faye through life lessons, but well, he's the more experienced and worldly-wise character in the end, and I think Leon is happy to see Faye grow into her own.

 **Catria** ended up taking almost the opposite tack. Catria also hits the same trope for unrequited love Faye and Leon does, but I wanted to write it in such a way that that wasn't the basis for their friendship. Catria is more reserved than most, so she has no real reason to bring up having a crush on someone Faye has never heard of, unless it was to offer advice – but then other games shows that Catria is still stumbling through her own feelings anyway, and I read her character as not being comfortable with discussing that at all. For Faye's part, she has no real reason to bring up Alm to Catria either, so in the end they both leave it be. Meanwhile, Catria also guided Faye in being the owner of a pegasus, because that's something she's comfortable with and something she'd be eager to share. I also focused on her role as a more experienced warrior than Faye. That said, looking back over the work I think she ultimately lost out a little in terms of pagetime and things to do. Why? Well...

In the initial plans for this story, Faye and **Genny** being BFFs basically did not exist at all. I had a brief idea about Faye getting interested in books, but then I decided to shelve that because it didn't fit with the development of the story. Then, while writing, I had a couple of scenes where Genny being the one present and interacting with Faye seemed like the natural fit – most notably the scene where Faye fell ill and was recuperating in the fortress. After that it seemed natural for them to have more scenes together. To be honest though, the final impetus for having the two of them become genuine friends who would hang out and shoot the breeze with each other?

Yoghurt.

I wanted a scene in the breakfast hall where Faye shared yoghurt with someone, and after looking through the list of people who liked yoghurt, I saw that Genny was similarly in the 'loves it' category for that food. After that the two of them chatting with each other, Genny coming to see Faye's flying practice, and them becoming close friends flowed completely naturally, and Genny ended up with way more pagetime then I had ever planned for. So thanks, food preference chart. Thanks a lot.

Also as a result she ended up being a natural contrast with Mae. My headcanon is that loud, energetic, outgoing Mae, is exactly the sort of person who would end up pushing Faye away in her initial desire to make friends, and I tried to write it that while Faye has some interactions with Mae as she becomes more comfortable with the group in general, she still instinctively throws a wall up when talking to her. Genny's more reserved personality as a comforting presence, on the other hand, would be way more effective at coaxing Faye out of her shell.

Another relationship I wanted to write about was **Mycen**. While not paying that much attention to it, I also wanted to emphasize that Faye looks up to him, and he's fond of her too. And also my fanon that Faye internally thinks of him as her uncle. I tried to sprinkle in hints here and there of how Faye's been influenced and taught by him.

And of course, **Faye and Celica's friendship** , which was always intended to be the backbone of the story. Faye becoming a cleric and learning from Celica was an obvious dynamic, since I wanted the start of the relationship to very much be of Faye looking up to Celica and learning more from her. At the same time I also wanted to develop their friendship so that it would end up being more reciprocal, to help to demonstrate Faye's own growth and the realization that she's better than she thinks she is. Her mastering various spells and using it to help or save Celica at several moments was meant to reflect this, culminating in the scene in the Royal Vault where she helps Celica realize that she's making a mistake.

At the same time, as the focal relationship of the story, I wanted to write it with the idea that friendships can run into trouble. Faye ends up in conflicts with Leon and Catria at points, but there are multiple times in the story where Faye gets genuinely upset, jealous or angry at Celica, and so I wanted to write about them navigating through such issues. Both Faye and Celica are still growing and learning, so they're not quite as used to working through such things, but at the end of the day their friendship is all the stronger for it, and in the end, they both grow as people from their bond. Ultimately I can only hope that you like their friendship and found it compelling.

Also, back when this story was in the early planning stages, I had an idea of Faye finding a new love interest in the very last chapter, but I dropped it before very long. I wanted to focus on the relationships already built up in the course of the story, not new ones introduced at the last chapter.


End file.
